


Expectations

by Writers_Muse



Series: Multi-Chapter Fics [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Is a Little Shit, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Has a Crush on Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Has a Crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Adrien Agreste/Ladybug Fluff, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Adult Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Aged Up, Alternate Universe - Aged Up, Alternate Universe - No Powers, And I don't even really like Ladrien, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Cat Tikki, Chat Noir in Leather, Chat Noir will have a role too, DJWifi, Exasperated Marinette Dupain-Cheng, F/M, Gabriel Agreste Is Not Hawk Moth, Gabriel's A+ parenting, Human Tikki, I'll Update This At Some Point, I'm Bad At Tagging, IT'S A JOKE, LadyNoir - Freeform, Leather whips, Lukanette, Marichat, Meet-Cute, Non-powered Marinette and Adrien, Reverse Crush (Miraculous Ladybug), Smug Adrien Agreste, Somehow this turned into non-powered Ladrien, Sort Of, Tikki is a person and a pet, because spoilers, haha not really, it's a plot point, ladrien, more tags to come, no powers au, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 10:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18915244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writers_Muse/pseuds/Writers_Muse
Summary: Marinette and Adrien have never met.  In fact, from what she's heard about the celebrity model, he's a spoiled, rich playboy with too much money and too much ego.  When she happens to stumble upon him one day, though, she begins to see that she may have been wrong about him all along.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a super short prologue from an idea I just had. Title is still tentative (sort of wish I didn't have to pick one at this point). If you really like it, comment to let me know, and I'll update it at some point!

Marinette rushed out of her house, hair falling out of her messy bun, one arm in her jacket and the other struggling to pick up her keys, her phone, her purse, half of her jacket trailing behind her like a flag in the wind.  Of course she was late. Of _course_ she was late.  When was she not?  When, in her entire life had she ever been on time?  Lord knows, of all the times to be late, _this_ , the day of her interview to intern at a major fashion house, was _not_ it.

As she struggled to keep all her possessions in her hold and close the front door of her apartment, she gave one last look inside, blowing a kiss to her cat, Tikki, who looked at her indifferently.

“See you later, Tiks.  Wish me luck!” she called, closing the door.

She practically ran down the street, raven hair, on its last vestiges of structure, beginning to lose its battle against the wind.  Grey clouds threatened overhead.  She picked up her pace and hoped she would make it to the subway before it started to rain, though she knew with her luck, it probably wasn’t going to happen.

Barely making it through the doors of the train before they slammed shut, she breathed a sigh of relief, finally allowing her shoulders to droop, and leaned against a wall, only to see, across from her, a poster advertising a fragrance of perfume featuring- of _course_ \- Adrien Agreste.

Marinette rolled her eyes at the ostentatious ad, preparing herself for the sprint once the train reached her stop, knowing full well she may already be late to the interview.  She tried allowing her eyes to roam about the car, but all the surfaces were grimy or occupied, so she found her vision continually returning to the ad.

Huffing slightly from irritation, she narrowed her eyes.  Adrien Agreste had always bothered her, though she knew that was unfair to say when she had never met him, but from what she had heard and seen of him, he wasn’t really the most likeable person.  Every time she saw a story about him in the media, it was linked to his best friend of Marinette didn’t even know how long, and usually it involved some outrageous after-dark incident involving booze, or slutty fangirls (or fanboys), or both.

It was already a few years old, the ad, featuring him from his older teenage years, the image one of innocence with a backdrop of bright, sunny skys and white, puffy clouds to match his equally pure, white outfit.  The expression on his face as he jumped in the air ( _who seriously told him to do that and thought it was a good idea?_ ) was one of carefree joy, but she knew it was all a lie.

Spoiled, rich, pretty boys weren’t carefree, innocent, or pure.

Suddenly Marinette got a bit of a devious idea.  Checking her watch and realizing she still had some time left before she would need to leave the train, she looked around her, but saw only a few other passengers- one reading a newspaper, several on their phones, and one other a little way further down the car who seemed to be hiding in his black hoodie.  Realizing no one was paying attention, she pulled out a Sharpie pen from her bag of drawing materials and walked closer to the poster, which was protected from tearing by a thick plastic sleeve.

She lifted up the pen, drawing a speech balloon next to Adrien’s open mouth, and wrote: “I got my hater blockers on.”

Semi-amused, she laughed quietly to herself, then looked around to see if anyone noticed.  To her relief no one was really paying attention to her, except for that weird hobo-looking person (if hobos wore expensive jeans) whose face was half obstructed by black hood.  Telling herself to ignore it, she went back to leaning against the wall and waited until the train reached her stop, then stepped through the doors and onto the platform.

In the rush that she was, it took her a few blocks to realize someone wasn’t too far behind her.  At first, she brushed it off, but before long, she found herself looking repeatedly over her shoulder, catching sight every time of the man in a black hoodie trailing a few people behind her.  Alarm crept up on her, but she remained calm, rationalizing that he probably wouldn’t do anything with so many people around, and her destination was so close…

Suddenly he was at her elbow, and she nearly screamed, if it wasn’t for the fact that with his close proximity, she could finally see his face.

He was… beautiful.

And blond.

With green eyes and a jawline so hot it she had the fleeting thought she wanted to nibble on it.

And he looked a lot like…

“Adrien Agreste.”  He smiled widely, holding out his hand to shake hers.  “You were drawing on my face earlier. Nice to meet you.”

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. In case anyone didn't get it, the thing she wrote on his poster was from a Vine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette is confronted (sort of) by Adrien, and ends up confused. Then, despite being late, she makes it to her interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a break from Marichat May so I could do some work on my long-neglected Brotherly Love, but then I got a terrible block, so I decided to do a little work on this instead ^_^

Marinette couldn’t stop staring.

Judging by the temperature of the skin on her face, her cheeks had to be the color of tomatoes.

“Adri... Agreste….”

If it was possible his grin grew even wider, almost cat-like, and smug as hell.

“Yep!  In the flesh.”  And he leaned forward to place a kiss on the back of the hand he was holding.

The hand he was holding….

Marinette snapped out of her daze, snatching her hand back as her expression switched in an instant from one of dumb muteness to irritation and embarrassment.  The blond’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, his head visibly pulling back.

“I know who you are,” she snapped, not sure if she was more bothered by his oddly forward behavior or the fact that he had caught her defacing his pristine image.  His brief shock dissipated in that moment, however, and was replaced by amusement.

“Yes, I think we’ve established that.  Like I said: nice to meet you. And may I ask your name?”

The noirette’s eyes flickered rapidly back and forth between both of his own, all the blood rushing away from her face and leaving her pale.

Why did he want her name?  Was he planning to sue her?  Defame her? Was he going to ruin any chance she had of making it anywhere in the fashion industry?!

As the thoughts in her head continued to escalate in anxiety, her eyes grew wider and wider.  Adrien continued to watch her stare mutely at him, real concern passing over his features.

“Mademoiselle,” he began, reaching out to grasp an elbow and leaning in to get a better look at her face, “are you all right?”

Marinette visibly swallowed.

“I’m fine,” she managed, though it sounded a bit breathless.  Then, she remembered, “but I’m not telling you my name.”

Adrien’s eyebrows flew to his hairline, and he fought off a smirk.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” she answered, her temper and pride finally kicking is.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, some of us have more important things to do than boost the already inflated egos of self-absorbed celebrities.”

And with that she turned on her heel, headed once again in the direction of Miraculeux, one of the fastest growing fashion houses in the fashion capital of the world.  At this rate, she wasn’t only going to be late, she was going to miss the entire interview. She prayed on the lucky ladybug charm that was hanging around her neck that she would be able to talk her way into their good graces, though it helped that she already knew and mentored under one of the individuals she expected to see that morning.

As her luck would have it, though, she heard the distinct step of someone trying to keep pace with her.  She risked a glance to the side, and realized the persistent man had not taken the hint. The doors of Miraculeux’s corporate building were just half a block away.  So close…

"Oh," he went on as though nothing was off.  "And what would that be?"

“I have an interview," she blurted without thinking, then appeared to do a double take.  "I’m sorry, but did you grow up with a penchant for ignoring people’s boundaries to go along with that entitlement?”

Hearing him scoff beside her, she wondered if she went too far.  Sure he seemed narcissistic and pushy (and oddly invasive), but she had no right to speak to him that way.  Just as she was about to turn to apologize, true to her signature gracefulness, she tripped. Tripping wasn’t anything new for the girl.  In fact, her friends were so familiar with (and amused by) her general lack of grace that they nicknamed her Maladroit Mari, affectionately of course.  Sometimes there were objects in her way, like book bags, or breaks in the sidewalk, or even on occasion a light pole, but most often, like this time, the thing she tripped on was thin air.

Forget the interview- Marinette was on track to make a meeting with the pavement, until a pair of arms caught her, that is.  One second she was headed face first for the ground, squinting her eyes to brace for impact, and the next she was being spun around, getting a face full of someone’s chest instead.  Breathing slightly hard from the adrenaline, she opened her eyes and allowed them to slowly travel up (and up and up) until they met two pools of green.

“Are you all right?”

His voice was surprisingly soft, and concerned, and for a second, Marinette wasn’t even sure what he was saying.

“I’m sorry,” she responded somewhat breathlessly, eyes never leaving his.  “I’m madly clumsy.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at her, and she hastily extracted herself from his hold, mortification taking hold as she smoothed down her outfit.

Unable to meet his gaze any longer, she dropped her own to the ground.

“Uh, I’m sorry, too, for what I said.  That was over the line. I don’t know you well enough to make a statement like that, much less say it to your face.  Now, if you’ll excuse me-”

But her efforts to turn were impeded by a hand to her arm.  Reluctantly, she turned back around.

“Wait.  Please. Just... give me a name.  I feel weird not knowing what to call you.”

Marinette reached up to grasp the charm around her neck and smiled, a small smile, one she couldn’t entirely suppress as a thought occurred to her.

“Ladybug.  You can call me Ladybug.”

* * *

Marinette emerged through the elevator doors and into the lobby, glancing around a bit in a mixture of panic and confusion.  Where was she going? How late was she? Were they going to simply laugh in her face and tell her to leave for failing to arrive on time?

Adrien had taken her by surprise by walking her to the front doors of the building, waiting until she was standing in front of the elevator before he waved.  As she stepped into the lift, the door slowly closing, she looked back and noticed him still there, though he had a phone raised to his ear.

There was something odd about him.  He had all the appearance and attitude of an egotistical, rich, (unfairly) attractive millionaire, and even acted like a bit of a flirt, but his manners were impeccable (mostly), and he seemed to be incredibly patient, if his apparent lack of hostility to her treatment of him was any indicator.

The flustered girl approached the front desk, doing her best to push all thoughts of the blond supermodel out of her mind, and announced her arrival.  After a few seconds on the phone, the secretary (assistant? she wasn’t sure) sent her through a pair of glass doors and directed her down the long hall.  She came to the end, reaching a door with the words “Director of Design” mounted beside them on the wall in cold steel. Taking a deep breath, she knocked.

“Come in!”

The words carried through the heavy wooden doors, and with only a brief moment of hesitation, Marinette pulled at the handle, nervously stepping through under the frame.  On the other side of a large desk, a woman sat with the handset of a phone raised to one ear, the other hand of hers waving for Marinette to sit down.

“Thanks for calling.  It was nice to hear from you!" she spoke into the handset.  "Give your dad regards from me.”  Then she was quiet for a few seconds before ending her silence with a chuckle.  “Even better. Tell him I said he _has_ to meet me for a drink one of these days.”  There was some talking on the other line, and she laughed a bit louder.  “I look forward to it. I’ve got to go now, though. I have an important meeting.”  A smirk came over her features. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Maybe if you tell your dad what I said, I’ll tell you.”  There was another laugh. “All right, it’s a deal. See you then.” And with that, she placed the handset in its cradle, leaning forward with a smile as her hands met on the desktop in front of her, fingers lacing.  “Marinette. It’s so wonderful to see you again.”

Marinette couldn’t help but smile.  This woman had been something of a mentor, even a friend, as she went through the final years of her design program.  All her best work was created under the guidance and tutelage of this woman.

“I’m glad to see you again, too, Tikki.”  But then her smile fell. “I’m terribly sorry I was late.  I had some issues with the train, and-”

“Oh, tush, don’t even worry about it,” Tikki responded, waving one hand casually.  “I already know all about it.”

The raven-haired girl frowned in confusion.

“You do?”

“Oh, yes,” the scarlet-haired woman replied, a wide smirk growing over her face as a twinkle entered her eye.  “I’ve just had a call about it, actually.” Marinette paused, wondering what in the world she could be talking about. “Which brings me to this: Marinette, how do you know Adrien Agreste?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this! It's kind of a just for fun project (lol as opposed to the others, I guess). It gives me a writing exercise when I'm blocked on other projects, but I do have some ideas already where this could go.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know if you liked it with a kudo and a comment!
> 
> <3 Muse


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette gets interviewed (sort of), then meets someone (not so) unexpectedly (again) after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling unwell for a few days, so now I'm even more behind on Marichat May, and I didn't even get to work on Brotherly Love. I promise to finish MM but it may not be by the end of the month. Please let me know what you think of this addition to Expectations!

“Huh?”

Tikki’s smile grew wider.

“Adrien Agreste.  He just called me to explain how he made you late to our meeting, not that it mattered to me anyway, darling.  I know what kind of hardworking, talented person you are. And I trust you. So, tell me, how do you know him?  He’s usually quite a private individual.”

Marinette tried not to choke on her own spit.

“Well, uh, truthfully I- I don’t.  I only met him today, and that was briefly.”

Tikki’s eyebrows flew to her hairline.

“Oh, is that so?” she asked, not really expecting a response.  “That’s really impressive, darling. Usually Adrien is a difficult person to impress, but it seems that there’s something about you he really likes.”

Questions raced through Marinette’s mind, but she didn’t voice any of them.   _He likes me?  After what he saw and what I said?  Why? What did he say about me?_

Instead of saying these things, she shrugged helplessly.

“I honestly have no idea what that is.”

The woman’s eyes sparkled, and she leaned forward, giving Marinette a self-satisfied look.

“I think I have an idea or two,” she commented, but didn’t elaborate.  She continued looking at Marinette for just a second or two longer, than sat back with an air of business.  “Now then,” and she picked up a folder from the side of her desk and tossed it onto the space between them, “the interview.  This job- it’s yours, if you want it. I’ve had you in mind for it since I first saw your work. Do you need time to think about it?”

Marinette gaped for a second.

“Can you do that?  You don’t have to interview me first?”

The redhead laugh, a light, airy sound almost like tinkling of bells.

“Darling, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I can do whatever I want.”  She finished the statement with a wide grin. Marinette only nodded, somewhat overwhelmed.

“What do you say then, my dear?  Do you need some time to think about it?”

The noirette remained speechless, prompting the woman across from her to roll her eyes in mock exasperation.

“Fine, I guess I’ll have to persuade you.  Consider this: at the end of your internship, you retain the possibility of being picked up as a contract employee with full benefits, and as an intern this is what we’ll pay you.”

She pointed at a section of the papers on the desk between them, drawing Marinette’s attention to the offered salary.  Her eyes widened in surprise- the amount was double what she had expected to make, much more than what she had heard was typical for someone in the same position.

“Is- is that right?” she couldn’t help but ask.

Tikki merely smiled.

“Of course it is, darling.  Like I said: I can do whatever I want.”

When Marinette walked out of the building a quarter of an hour later, not even the rain that had begun while she was inside could dampen her mood.

She had signed the agreement, and it was too amazing to believe.  Tikki swore up and down that while the salary wasn’t all that outrageous, she was worth every bit of it, and she trusted Marinette would prove that in no time at all.

Watching as drops of water cascaded down from the heavens, she lifted her head, holding out one palm to catch a few, and wondering at the beauty of it.  In the next few seconds, she was making a mad dash across the street to find a bit of shelter under a bakery’s awning. Half-drenched, she was unable to hold in the laugh that bubbled up in her chest.  It truly was an interesting day. Marinette checked her watch, wondering if the rain would stop before she expected the next train to arrive at the station a few blocks away, and if she should make a mad dash for it, or just take her time.  There was no way she could avoid getting soaked the rest of the way if she went out into the rain, no matter how fast she ran.

Lost in her internal estimations, she didn’t hear the bakery door opening, or notice the person who emerged from within, a box of quiches and a small bag of macarons in his hand- not, that is, until he came to stand beside her.

“We meet again, mademoiselle.  I guess you could call this fate.”

Marinette whirled around in surprise, taking in the figure before her in all his tall, blond, sunshiny splendor.  Not that his smile was too bad, either. Feeling a blush creep up into her face, she turned her head and scoffed to hide it.

“I don’t believe in fate.”

“Karma, then,” he responded without missing a beat.  Marinette turned back to look at him with a bemused expression.  “You know, for vandalizing my pretty face,” he added, teasing clear in his tone and the smirk on his face.  The noirette narrowed her eyes.

“Well, karma is a bitch,” she said after a moment, doing her best to (unsuccessfully) suppress all amusement from her expression.  “Besides,” she tagged on, pausing for dramatic effect. “You’re not as pretty as you think you are.”

Adrien guffawed, the sound of it clearly surprised by her boldness, if pleasantly so.  She cheered internally for her minor victory, but immediately regretted it when she found his face leaning in closer to hers, predatory look on his face.  There came that blush again, but she couldn’t look away from the deep green eyes that were suddenly so close to her own. Inexplicably, her heart began to race, and she swallowed.

“Is that so, my lady?”

“Y- your lady?” she tried to snort derisively, though she failed miserably, her voice almost trembling in nervousness and… anticipation?

“Yea,” the man responded, lopsided grin spreading over his features.  “Because you’re my Ladybug.”

She wanted to retort with something clever and witty.  She wanted to ~~kiss~~ ~~bite~~ wipe that grin right off his face.  But she couldn’t, not with the odd, warm feeling burgeoning in her chest and sending her stomach into flutters.

“Wh- who says I’m y- yours?”  

_What the hell?  Why am I stammering?_

Maddeningly, his grin finished its gradual migration across the other half of his face, and she mused subconsciously that he looked a lot like the cat that got the cream.

“You just did.”

“I did not!”

Adrien retreated back to a full-standing position, and she felt like she could suddenly breathe after suffocating.

“I’m pretty sure those were the words that just came out of your mouth.”

Marinette opened her mouth to deny his claim, but faltered.

“That’s not what I meant!” she finally, pathetically, declared.

Not that he seemed to care.  He was too busy appearing way too entertained by the whole thing.  She simply stood there, watching him grin, until that wide, perfect smile transitioned into something softer.  Nervousness crept into her bones again, and she did her best to change the direction of the conversation.

“Wh- what are you doing here, anyway?” she asked, clearing her throat and willfully looking away from his gorgeous face.  “Come to stalk me?”

There was that laugh again.  Marinette’s heart skipped a beat.

“Some fans noticed me earlier and started taking photos of me with their phones.  I ducked into here for privacy.”

Marinette looked inquisitively at the packages in his hands, arching one eyebrow.

“Planning to disguise yourself with bakery goods?  What’s the idea? No one believes Adrien Agreste eats carbs?”

He let out another loud laugh.

“Ah, actually I have a bit of a weakness for quiche,” and he held up his box demonstrably, cheeks turning slightly red.  “And macarons. And croissants.” Then his brow started to furrow. “And carbs.”

She couldn’t help it- she laughed at his expression, but that quickly transformed into a look of shock as she suddenly remembered the time.

“Oh!”  And she looked again at her watch.  “I have to go before I miss my train.”

But his eyes were fixed on a position off to the side, and she followed his gaze, confused at the sudden seriousness of his mood.  On the curb, there was a silver sedan parking, and a tall, gorilla-like man stepped out of the driver’s door, holding an umbrella overhead as he looked directly at Adrien.  She turned curiously back to the blond, noticing the way his shoulders slumped.

He lifted the umbrella up and opened it, tucking his goods under the flap of his hoodie and hanging his head almost dejectedly as he began to walk out from underneath the awning.  Marinette watched him go, only to be taken aback when he turned to face her again, his eyes gentle.

“You probably hear a lot of things about me, but I just want you to know I’m not the person the media makes me out to be.  I’ve never… had a lot of friends. The ones I have… I try to be there for them, even when it makes me look bad.”

Then he held his umbrella out to her as though there weren't a thousand drops of water suddenly falling on his head, just waiting for her to accept it.  Slowly, hesitantly, she did, pulling her hand back as though shocked when their fingers brushed, thunder rolling overhead. He released his grip half-way, allowing her to take the handle from him before completely surrendering it to her, his lips forming a small smile.

“See ya, Ladybug.”

He jogged to the curb, climbing into the back seat and disappearing as the door closed behind him.

“Ma- Marinette,” she found herself calling, voice too quiet to be heard, as the car pulled off of the curb and drove away.  “My name is Marinette.”

Adrien looked out the window, keeping the raven-haired mystery girl in his sights as long as he could, only facing forward once they turned the corner.  Then, he sighed.

“Whoever she is…” he whispered to himself, “I love that girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Thanks for reading this rewrite of their origin story. 
> 
> Lol jk jk. There’s more to come. This story’s only getting started. Thanks for reading! Leave a kudos or a comment if you like this story! ^_^
> 
> <3 Muse


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette goes out to celebrate her new job with her boss and her friend, but runs into someone unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Another update ^_^ Look at me on a roll

“Girl, you have to tell me how your interview went!”

Marinette lifted the phone away from her ear, overwhelmed by the volume of Alya’s enthusiastic voice, but unable to suppress the excited smile that overtook her features as she stood in the metro car on her way home, holding onto a dangling handle with one hand for stability.

“Let’s celebrate!” she finally exclaimed after a dramatic pause, causing Alya to squeal in excitement, and having to pull her phone back again.

“I knew it!  Child, what have I been telling you?  They would be crazy not to want you.”

She rolled her eyes fondly.

“Tikki wants to meet for celebratory drinks tonight.  Will you come?”

“Of course!  How is that even a question?  But listen, I have to get back to work now, my boss is sort of giving me the evil eye, so I’ll see you tonight, ok?”

Marinette laughed.

“All right, get back to work.  I’ll text you the time and place.”

“Ok, girl, see you then.  Muah!”

Putting her phone in her pocket, the noirette looked up and around her, taking in the feeling of the moment, when a familiar poster attracted her attention.  It was the same advertisement as before (albeit, not the same one she wrote on), and immediately her thoughts flew to the unexpected meeting she had made. Unbidden, blood rushed to her face, and she subconsciously raised her hands to her cheeks, wondering why there was a fluttering in her chest.  She couldn’t help but recall in that moment the flustered way she felt in his presence, the sudden weakness in her knees, her inability to think straight. Confused, she turned away from the image, facing the opposite direction for the remainder of the commute.

* * *

It was with a sigh that Marinette dropped her keys into the bowl by the front door as she closed it behind her some thirty minutes later, leaning against its cheap wood as it clicked shut.  She kicked off her heels without even bothering to step away from the door, half-heartedly turning her upper body so that the side of her head was resting against it as she leaned on one arm.  With the other, she pulled her phone out and checked her messages, depositing her purse absentmindedly on the small table beside the key bowl.

A soft “mrow” caught her attention, and she turned her head to see her little strangely ginger kitty headed her way.  The lazy weaving of her step, the soft sound of her begging, and her loud purr all clued Marinette in that Tikki was hungry.

“Come here, kitty, kitty,” she cooed, kneeling down as the feline sauntered closer, tail completely raised and curling around in a mixture of welcome and request.  Marinette reached out and drew her closer, hands grabbing the dainty little cat from under the arms and pulling her into a cradling hold as she stood back up to full height.  “I saw your auntie today,” she continued in a baby-voice, leaning in closer to the tiny face looking up at her as she rested complacently in the girl’s arms. Marinette walked into the kitchen, finally setting her cat down carefully on the floor as she pulled out a can of kitty chow and emptied it into the food bowl, topped with a tiny kitty cookie.  “For my sweet kitty,” she said, scratching her a bit behind the ears as the cat dug in, then leaving her to eat in peace.

Once in her room, she peered into her closet, wondering what would be the best outfit for celebrating a new job with your longtime friend/mentor slash new boss.  Marinette gingerly went through each of her items one at a time, slowly sliding them by on their hangers as she considered what to wear. Her most favored color growing up was always pink.  It was soft and feminine, but it was also juvenile unless worn properly. It definitely wasn’t suited to nightlife. She also wore quite a bit of blue, mostly because it brought out her eyes, but nothing she had in any shade of blue was close to what she was looking for.  Some of them were dresses- sundresses too light and airy for a night venue, or long gowns too formal and elegant. Funnily enough, her best color, despite the fact she seldom wore it, was red. It contrasted with her midnight hair and light skin, but it also brought out her rosy undertones, and it complemented well with her bright eyes.  With this in mind, Marinette tucked several more outfits aside purposefully until her vision came to rest on the exact thing she was looking for. With a satisfied smile, she lifted it off the rod and began to plan what she should wear with it.

* * *

The lounge was dimly lit, with dark sofas and chairs, and decorative accents in hues of teal.  Marinette gazed about the room as she passed through the entry, somewhat startled when she was stopped by a server in a uniform of a white button-up and black slacks, with a black bow tie.  The person bowed slightly before addressing her.

“Welcome to Le Paon.  I am Le Papillon, and it is customary for our guests to wear masks.  If you have any requests, please do not hesitate to ask. Would the mademoiselle care to look through our selection of available masks?  They are each unique, hand made, and complementary.”

Marinette looked at the person in front of her for a moment, slightly surprised.  She had never heard of this establishment before, but came at Tikki’s suggestion. It was an interesting place, and she was taken aback that she didn’t notice the uniqueness of the atmosphere sooner.  The server in front of her had sleek, red hair pulled back into a ponytail, and his turquoise eyes were framed by a silver mask, clearly invoking a butterfly, with its mirror edges, rounded and jeweled, standing out on both sides in the shape of butterfly wings.  Something about the person in front of her was vaguely familiar, but she brushed that aside and decided instead to follow him, as he was now standing with one arm extended out in silent request. As she made her way further into the room, though, she noticed someone waving at her.

“Tikki!” she automatically greeted, only for her attention to be arrested once again by the man speaking to her.

“Mademoiselle, I think this one might be a perfect fit for you.”

The noirette looked down at his hands and noticed, carefully cradled in them was a red mask with black spots, but the border was lined in black mesh which protruded on either side until it almost looked like wings.  It was reminiscent of a ladybug, and it couldn’t have been more perfect. Taking a moment to look down at her scarlet red dress, with its asymmetrical hemline, plunging neckline, and sheer black overlay that almost gave the impression of large black spots, she appreciated just how appropriate the mask was.  It even matched the black, strappy heels she was wearing.

She accepted the mask, looking up to find the man watching her with barely veiled interest.

“Allow me,” he said, then walked behind her and carefully placed the mask on the bridge of her nose, tying the ribbons at the back of her head.

“Th- thank you,” she murmured, doing her best not to blush under his attention as he came to stand in front of her again, then something orange caught her eye.  “Wow that’s... that’s beautiful. Can I take that? My friend is coming, and I think it would suit her perfectly.”

“Of course,” he calmly replied, reaching into the small display case to pull out a fox mask before handing it to her.  Marinette beamed.

“Thank you so much.”

The man bowed again.

“My pleasure.”

“Marinette!”

The raven-haired girl looked once again to see Tikki waving her over, and she gave the server another nod before walking toward her friend, exchanging two kisses on the cheek before she sat.

“This is such an interesting place.  Where did you find it?”

Tikki smiled at her like she was hiding a secret.

“It belongs to a friend,” she answered vaguely, leaving Marinette to wonder what she might be keeping from her.  “But that mask does suit you. Ladybug.” The woman’s grin grew wider, and for the life of her, Marinette knew there was something behind that smile, but couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Thank you,” she said, self-consciously raising her fingers up to feel the mask.  It felt foreign on her skin, but in some ways, was actually quite empowering, like it gave her a whole new identity.  Unbidden, though, the nickname sent her back to the morning, and to the man who hadn’t been far from her thoughts the entire day.  Doing her best to dispel the vision of blond hair and deep green eyes, she shook her head, realizing that Tikki was watching her with quite a bit of interest, still looking quite pleased with herself.  “Oh! I invited a friend,” Marinette informed her. “I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course it is, darling!  Friends of yours are friends of mine, always.”

“That’s a relief.”  Marinette’s shoulders relaxed.  “I’ve probably talked about Alya quite a bit over the years, but I’ve never had the opportunity to introduce you.”

Tikki grinned.

“I’m looking forward to it.”  Then she paused, but only for a second.  “In fact, I invited a friend, too.”

“Oh!  Did you?  Anyone I know?”

The woman’s grin widened.

“I think you’ve met before.”

“O...k.”

“Marinette!”

The noirette turned at the sound of her name to see Alya walking in through the door.  

“Well, speak of the devil.”

Marinette stood to greet her friend, intercepting her as the server began his introduction.

“Oooh, fancy,” Alya intoned, smirk in place as she looked the man over up and down.  Under her gaze, the man blushed.

“Alya, behave!” Marinette reprimanded, only half-serious, before handing her the mask.  “Here. I picked this for you.”

The redhead’s smirk turned sly as she looked over the article, lifting it up to inspect it and try it on.

“Foxy like me.  Thanks, babe.”

Marinette rolled her eyes at her friend’s trademark boldness, then froze when she saw another person coming through the door.  Well, two people.

One of them was a tall, tan man with olive skin and deep honey-colored eyes.  His clothes were clean-cut and appropriate for the atmosphere, yet somehow laid back and relaxed, with a deep blue shirt underneath a black blazer, tailored to fit him perfectly, and rolled up at the sleeves.  His hair was cut short all the way around, but the top of his hair was long and slicked-back, somehow managing to be both styled and messy, and there was the distinct sign of stubble on his face. Marinette could already hear her friend’s panties dropping.

The appearance of the other person, though, completely threw her.  Because standing there, in all his 188 centimeters, was a blond man wearing a simple black button-up and slacks so dark green they were almost black, too.  His hair was tame, but messy, locks falling into his eyes as he walked through the door and made eye contact with the surprised girl. A slow grin spread over his face as he walked closer, Marinette frozen in place and unable to do anything more than watch him.

“We meet again,” he said, bending over to lift her hand and brush a barely-there kiss over her knuckles.  “M’ladybug.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette encounters someone she didn't expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another short one to compensate for the fact I left you hanging yesterday (hehe, I'm looking at you MBK)

“Ladybug?”

Alya looked between them with a confused but curious expression.  Marinette could feel all the blood in her body rush to her face, and if it wasn’t for her friend’s steadying hand on her elbow, she probably would have toppled over, but the redhead’s grip on her kept her grounded.  Quietly, the server disappeared.

When Marinette didn’t say anything for more than a few seconds, the redhead extended her hand out to Adrien.

“Hi, I’m Alya, best friend.  But I guess you can call me Rena Rouge,” she added, winking and tapping her mask with one finger, giving the dark mystery man beside him an appreciative once over before turning back to the blond in front of her.  “So, how do you know Ma-”

“Alya!” the alarmed girl suddenly shouted, startling everyone in close proximity.  With wide, expectant eyes, her friend turned in answer. “This is Adrien. He met me, Ladybug, this morning, and then I ran into him again this afternoon, so let’s not bother him anymore, ok?”

Alya’s calculating hazel eyes narrowed as she watched her friend panic, the evidence of it a slight pinch on the back of her arm, before she quirked an eyebrow and turned back to face the two men once again.

“Excuse my skittish friend.  Pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Agreste, though I would recognize you anyway.  And who, may I ask, is your handsome friend?”

At once all three individuals eyes turned on the dark man still standing close to the entry door, one pair wide with nervousness, one crinkled in amusement, and the last burning and hungry.  He openly mimicked Alya’s once-over before giving her a lopsided smirk.

“Hello, beautiful,” he finally said, voice smooth as velvet, and stepped forward to take her hand, kissing the back of it without looking away from her eyes.  “My friends call me Nino, but you can call me anything you want, anywhere, anytime.”

“Oh, is that so?”

Nino’s smirk transformed into a full grin.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, if you’re offering, then-”

“Ok!”  Marinette grabbed her friends arm and forcibly pulled her away from entry just as the server returned.  “We have company waiting for us, so we really should be going.”

“Wait-” Adrien began, causing Marinette to stop in her flight, but was interrupted.

“Monsieur Agreste,” Papillon greeted, bowing before lifting up an ornate black wooden box with a red pattern painted onto the lid.  “Would you like a mask this evening?”

Adrien’s gaze darted back and forth between the women and the server.

“Not tonight, but thank you, Papillon.”

He nodded in assent, then turned to Nino.

“And would Monsieur Lahiffe like to choose a mask for the evening?”

Papillon lifted the lid of the nearby display case as Nino peered in, his face lighting up like a child on Christmas.

“Aw, dope!” he exclaimed, all the suave demeanor giving way to childlike excitement.  “That one!” And he pointed into the case.

Papillon reached down and lifted out a large green mask, which looked to be made out of real turtle’s shell, complete with jade stones in a hexagonal domino shape on the sides.

“It suits you,” Adrien said, smiling, as his friend donned the mask he chose.

Nino smirked, posing with his arms crossed over his chest while the blond rolled his eyes.

“Call me Donatello,” he said, and Alya snorted.

“Wow.  A nerd.”

A blush over took Nino’s features as he straightened up.

“Raffaello?”

She continued to watch him, eyebrow arched.

“Leonardo?” he asked, this time his voice getting a little smaller as he shrugged sheepishly.

“Sorry, buddy,” Adrien offered, clapping a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Wait, I know!  Carapace!”

Alya tossed her head a little from side to side for a moment before grinning.

“It works.”

“Well, my lovely vixen,” Nino responded, coming to stand beside her and sticking out arm for her to grasp his elbow before lowering his voice deeper.  “Can we join you ladies?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” she replied, taking his arm and turning to Marinette with what anyone else would consider a normal look, but Marinette knew as one of request.  It was supposed to be her night, after all, and she knew Alya would never do anything if it was making her uncomfortable.

With a shrug, Marinette replied, “The more the merrier,” before leading them toward Tikki, who was still waiting patiently on a sofa.  As the group approached, Tikki stood.

“Adrien, darling!  I’m so glad you came.”

The blond’s lips twitched into an amused half-smile as he leaned forward, grasping her elbows in his hands and placing two kisses on either of her cheeks.  Marinette watched in surprise.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he said as he pulled back, the only one to catch Tikki’s wink.

“I’ll bet.”

“Tikki, you invited Adrien?” Marinette suddenly found the courage to ask, feeling very confused.

“Of course!  We’re dear old friends, and after our little chat on the phone earlier, I decided, who better to celebrate your inauguration as a member of Miraculeux?  He seemed so concerned about your, after all, when he called to beg me not to turn you away.”

Marinette’s gaze flew to the tall blond, whose face was turning a shade of pink.

“How could he know, though, that you and I are actually well acquainted, I wouldn’t turn you away for anything!”  Tikki laughed then, her voice jingling through the quiet atmosphere. “Oh! Everyone, please, sit and join me.”

All five adults took their seats as Tikki called Papillon over and ordered a bottle of champagne, which he returned with just a minute later.  Once everyone had a glass in hand, Tikki raised hers.

“To our Ladybug.  You shine so bright, you don’t even have to worry about becoming just another star.  You’re the sun.”

And as everyone tipped back their glasses in a toast to a blushing Marinette, Alya looked around, not missing the way Adrien watched her friend closely when he thought no one else was looking, stupid smile on his face.  Smirking, she leaned into Marinette’s ear.

“Girl, later, I want to hear _everything_.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Alya spend a little girl time together after their night out.

Alya and Marinette lie on the floor of her apartment in the dark, ear to ear, bodies extending out in opposite directions as they looked up at the ceiling and passed a cigarette back and forth.  Only the city lights shone through the glass of the balcony door.

“You know,” Alya mused after she inhaled a drag, followed by a pause as she exhaled a long plume, “it’s kind of funny to think about how we got here sometimes.  I still remember when we were in collège together. Now here we are, full grown adults, responsibilities and jobs and everything. How did that happen?”

Marinette snorted a laugh as she took the cigarette from Alya, waiting to respond until she had taken a lungful.

“Well,” she said, smoke slowly escaping from her parted lips as she paused dramatically, “I think we know which one of us had too much to drink.”

Alya chortled and broke down into a fit of giggles, clearly more than a little intoxicated.

“But really,” the noirette continued, smiling with amusement, “there’s this American song- it’s a shitty song, don’t look it up- and it says something about ‘welcome to the real world,’” she told her, using the English phrase.  “I think it’s supposed to be about the idea of adulthood being an illusion, like we never really grow up inside, even if the tune sucks and the guy’s voice is annoying.”

“Aww, look at my little Mari,” Alya intoned playfully, voice lilting.  The redhead did her best to lift and turn her head to see her friend without getting up from the floor.  “I still remember when you up and boned Luka before any of us ever got that far, surprising everyone.”

Marinette laughed a little at the memory, shaking her head.

“Could you blame me?  Luka’s hot as fuck.”

Alya fell into a giggling fit again, shifting a little from side to side to get more comfortable and taking the cigarette from Marinette for another drag.

“Yep.  That boy too fine.  I’d hit that. You know, if you didn’t already mark your territory and everything.  But damn,” she added, lifting up her phone thoughtfully as the lock screen lit up. “Nino has to be the hottest man I’ve met in a long ass time.”

“Oh, yea?” Marinette mimicked her friend’s earlier tilt and turn movement.  “So you got his number, right?”

Alya’s response was a snort.

“Of course.  Who do you think you’re talking to, child?”

Even from her disadvantageous angle, Marinette could see the stupid grin Alya was sporting.

“Speaking of…” the redhead continued, mischief clearly in her voice.  “That Adrien Agreste is pretty hunky, too, and he looks super into you.”

The raven-haired girl resumed her previous position, shaking her head automatically.

“No, there’s nothing going on there.  I mean, I admit I was wrong about him. I judged him unfairly before, but there’s no way a guy like him would ever be interested in me.  Besides, I have Luka. Sort of.”

Alya rolled her eyes, finally flipping her body over until she was resting on her stomach and forearms.

“‘Sort of,’ my ass.  Girl, this weird hook-up-when-one-of-you-is-lonely-or-drunk thing you have going is not healthy.  Besides,” and she flicked the supine girl’s forehead, “Adrien is plenty interested. Who better to trust, than my judgment?”

This time it was Marinette’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Whatever you say, mom, but he’s just… a friend.”

“Friend my ass,” Alya muttered, rising from the floor a little unsteadily, prompting Marinette to suddenly get up.  “It’s late, though, and I have a bit of work to do tomorrow, so I should head out.”

“Oh,” her friend responded, surprised.  “You don’t want to stay here tonight? It’s not the safest trying to go home at this time.”

“Relax, ma cherie.”  Alya held up her phone, grinning widely.  “I have a ride waiting for me.” Then she waggled her eyebrows, and Marinette rolled her eyes again.

“Of course you do.  You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“I never do.”

Marinette shook her head at the completely unapologetic grin on her friend’s face as the girl’s phone lit up and began vibrating.

“Speak of the devil,” Alya said, then winked and turned to the door.  Once on the other side, dim hallway light streaming in, she slowly pulled it closed, wiggling her fingers goodbye.  “See you later, m’ladybug. Behave~”

“Yea, yea.  Same to you.”

The last thing Marinette saw was the white gleam of Alya’s teeth before the door shut, leaving her almost completely in darkness.  Suddenly, the quiet was deafening, and she could feel loneliness creeping up on her. Her eyes flew instinctively to the place where she knew her phone must be resting before she slowly walked over to the spot, lifting it up and squinting from the harshness of the light as the lock screen illuminated.  Her fingers hovered hesitantly before unlocking it, then navigating to the contacts and to a specific message thread. She stared at the screen indecisively for a moment before tapping out a message.

_You busy?_

It took less than a minute, but felt like a lifetime, before she received a response.

_For you, ma cher?  Never._

Marinette could feel her heart racing, but she couldn’t stop herself as she typed and sent another message.

_Come over?_

As she waited the thirty seconds or so for the reply, she tried to calm her pulse by taking slow, deep breaths.

_I’ll be there in 10._

Marinette set the phone down, then walked on slightly shaky legs to the spot where she left her cigarette before taking another one out and lighting it.  She sat back on the couch, her head resting on the cushions and breathed in deep, then exhaled and let the hand holding her cigarette fall, elbow supported by the other hand.

Next she knew, the cigarette was being taken out of her fingers, and she was being jolted awake as a familiar form leant over her.

“You have to stop doing this, Mari.  You’re going to burn the apartment down.”

In the dimness of the room, she could see the red cherry extinguish in a the soil of a plant on her side table before the man’s silhouette was hovering just centimeters in front of her, his breath tickling her lips.

“Sorry,” she said, finding it a bit difficult to breath normally with his proximity.  “I guess I fell asleep waiting for you.”

Even in the dark, she could see Luka’s crooked smirk.

“Is that so?” He leaned closer until his lips were brushing over hers.  “Well, I hope you had a good nap,” he said, voice low and raspy, “because I don’t plan to let you go back to sleep anytime soon.”

The pressure and the smoothness of his lips on hers was intoxicating, even more than the drinks she had had earlier in the evening, and she felt her body surrendering to his touch, arms reaching up to grasp his neck as his hands found her thighs and lifted her up off the couch.  Mouths inseparable, tongues intertwined, he carried her back to the bedroom, not even needing to turn on the lights to find the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bam, some Lukanette for you. :D #sorrynotsorry
> 
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!
> 
> <3 Muse


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Luka aren't exactly on the same page.
> 
> Please read author's note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, two updates in one day!
> 
> Also, this chapter is M, bordering on E. There's no sex, but there are sexual topics, so if that isn't your jam, you could honestly skip it.

Light trickled in through the window.  While she had never been an early riser, Marinette always found it difficult to sleep through the brightness of the sun, so she purposely never hung any curtains up in hopes it would help her wake up early enough for work every day.  On the weekends, it was somewhat of an inconvenience, but at the very least, she had more time for errands and hobbies when she rose with the morning sun.

So it was that, stimulated by the early rays of light filtering in through the glass panes, her eyes began to flutter, though they did not yet open.  Marinette shifted in her comfortable position, brow furrowing as she registered the odd warm, heavy object curled around her. Slowly, she opened her eyes, taking a few seconds to accustom them to the brightness as she blinked blearily.  First she saw long, thick black lashes resting against smooth, beige skin. There was a cascade of blue-tipped hair hanging down over the closed eyes, and it took less than a second for her to realize who was next to her.

Closing her eyes again in bliss, she snuggled a little closer, wrapping her arms around Luka’s toned torso as she felt his own grip tighten around her middle.  Face burrowed somewhere between his neck and his chest, Marinette could hear the deep sigh he exhaled above her head.

“Morning,” came his deep, smooth voice.  The way it vibrated against her body sent a shiver through her.

“Morning,” she responded, unable to hold back the satisfied smile that lit her face.

Soft kisses touched her forehead, and Marinette couldn’t help but nuzzle in a little closer.

“I’m glad you came.”

Luka’s shoulders shifted a little as he chuckled.

“I wasn’t the only one.”

It took her half-asleep brain a few seconds to process his meaning, but when she did, she rolled her eyes and groaned in mock exasperation.

“Oh?  Is my little bird suddenly shy?”

Said little bird felt the weight beside her shift, and suddenly she was turned on her back, Luka’s warm body hovering over hers.  Marinette narrowed her eyes.

“Just what are you trying to say, Couffaine?  You know I prefer directness.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Luka responded, sinful smirk on his face.  “I’ll put it to you this way, my little bird.” And he leaned over placing teasing kisses on her neck and collarbones as she did her best not to physically react.  “Would you like to come with me again?”

As his kisses migrated further south, Marinette found herself losing the fight against her own self-control.  She subconsciously began threading her fingers through his hair, lips parting in a gasp as he sound a sweet spot and began to suck.  When he nipped the skin, she couldn’t hold in a moan. Just when he was beginning the drive her insane, his lips were back on hers, and she could feel the frantic beating of their hearts as they competed against each other, chest to chest.  In fact, the entirety of their bodies was touching skin to skin, heat against heat, and Marinette felt like there wasn’t anywhere on Earth she would rather be in that moment.

And then the moment ended.

“ _I love you, mon amour_ ,” Luka panted, his hips undulating against hers, his rigid erection brushing against her core.

All at once, Marinette’s body turned cold, her eyes snapping open.  As though sensing her abrupt shift in mood, the man with blue-tipped hair stopped in his movement, his eyes raising to look into her face, lips parted and flushed, pupils dilated.

“What’s the matter?”

The raven-haired woman could feel all the blood rushing to her face.  Reflexively, she raised her hands to hide her flush, almost relieved as she felt Luka shift off of her and onto the space beside her.

“I can’t tell you I love you?  Marinette, I don’t-” She could hear the hurt in his voice.  “Is it always going to be like this?”

She simply lay there, hidden behind the veil of her hands until they were pulled away, Luka’s blue eyes burning into hers.  Frozen under the intensity of his gaze, she gulped.

“Why is it not ok that I love you?  I’ve always loved you. Once upon a time, you loved me, too.”

If it was possible to die of shame, in that moment, she would have.

“I’m so sorry, Luka.  I never meant to confuse you.”  Her hands dropped as he relinquished his grip, his face turning away to look at the blankets on the bed.  Seeing the resigned slump of his shoulders broke Marinette's heart. Without thinking about it, she reached for his hand, but he resisted.  “We haven’t been a couple for years. I love you, Luka, I always will. I just- I don’t-”

She trailed off, unsure what to say, and not wanting to hurt him anymore with her words.  She had always loved him, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel contented when they were together.  Something was always just not quite right.

A bitter smile took over his features, and he finally turned to look at her again.

“It’s ok, cherie.”  He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips, then pulled back and gave her another sad smile.  “I should go.”

Marinette couldn’t find it in herself to say anything more as he got up and dressed, but slowly rose out of bed and put on her robe, following hesitantly behind him as he walked toward the door.  It surprised her when, as he opened the door and began to step through, he turned around.

“I’ll always be waiting for you,” he said and leaned in, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and kissing her on the cheek.  When he pulled back, his face was close enough to hers that she could hear him breathing. “Whenever you call, I will always come running.”

With that, he walked out and closed the door, and Marinette couldn’t decide if it was a promise or a plea for mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, my poor Luka. I love him so much, and Marinette just isn't doing right by him. I like giving the lead characters flaws, though, because it's unrealistic to make them selfless and perfect all the time.
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read!
> 
> <3 Muse


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya consoles Marinette, and Marinette’s first day at work is a little embarrassing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little angst and then the mood picks up again

“Oh, honey.  I got here as soon as I could.”

Alya closed the door behind her, then came to sit beside Marinette on the couch, curling her arms around her in comfort as the girl cried, tucked into a ball with her forehead on her knees and her hands grasping her own shins.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

When the noirette turned her head sideways, temple where her forehead had been, it was clear that her eyes were red and swollen.

“I just keep hurting him, Alya.  What is wrong with me?” she asked through tears and snot.

“What?  Babe, you’re not making any sense.  Hurt who?”

Marinette’s cheeks puffed out briefly before she forcibly exhaled on a sob, face contorting.

“Luka.  Luka was here, and I hurt him.”

The redhead sat there, understanding dawning as she watched her friend dissolve into tears once more.  With a rueful half-smile, she lifted a hand to stroke the girl’s hair.

“I’m sorry, honey.  I know you’re hurting.  But this thing with you and Luka- it was always going to come to this.  That man has always loved you more than anything, and calling him when you get lonely- I love you, babe, but that isn’t fair to him.  You’re giving him hope every time.”

“I know,” the raven-haired, tear-streaked mess lamented, nodding her head as though convicting herself of her own guilt.  “I should let him go and move on already. I just get lonely, and then I miss him, and he’s so wonderful, I wish I could love him as much as he loves me.”

Alya hugged Marinette a little tighter as she cried, doing her best to rub her arms and back soothingly until the sobs turned into sniffles.

“Alya, remind me why I broke up with him again,” she finally ventured in a small voice.

“Well, if I remember correctly, it was because you two were always great together, but you were never right together.”

Marinette nodded again, drawing in a breath and releasing it with a shudder.

“What if… what if I never find someone that feels right for me?  What if I’m being an idiot, and Luka was the person for me all along, but I was too stupid to realize it, and by the time I do, he’ll be long gone?”

“Hey, hey.”  Alya hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face to look in her eyes.  “You will find the person for you. I promise you, when you do, you will know, in the same way you don’t know with Luka.  Ok? And Luka will find someone, too. But you have to stop hopping his bones every time you feel lonely. You’re both keeping each other from going out there and finding who you’re meant to be with.”

Marinette gave a half-hearted, lopsided smile.

“I thought you don’t believe in fated love.”

“Girl, please,” the redhead retorted playfully, waving one hand in the air.  “I meet a new fated love every day of the week.” Marinette giggled a little, and her friend’s eyes brightened, widening dramatically.  “Speaking of which, I have to tell you about my night with Nino.”

The noirette’s smile transitioned to include rolling eyes, and she suppressed a long-suffering sigh.

“All right.  Let’s hear it.”

* * *

After listening to Alya gush for an hour and a half about how amazing Nino was (in more ways than one, of course), the two women curled up on her couch, watched movies, and munched on junk food for the rest of the evening until it was late.  When she offered to stay the night, Marinette waved her friend off, knowing the woman had some research for her next assignment at work. Being a journalist was a lot more work than it looked like. She dallied about the apartment for a while, cleaning up and washing dishes while eyeing her phone before finally giving in and sending Luka a simple message.

_I’m sorry.  I love you._

It was a heart-wrenching three minutes later when she finally received his reply.

_I know.  I love you too.  Always._

So, the first half of Sunday passed with Marinette wallowing in her bed, then realizing she would be starting her new job the next morning and promptly jumping out, full of energy for the rest of the evening, until she was almost unable to go to sleep.

Monday finally arrived, and with it, Marinette’s first official day at work.  Summer was getting on, so the nights were getting cooler, and along with them, the mornings and evenings of every day.  It felt wonderful to step out into the brisk morning air. It was her favorite time of year, loving layers as much as she did, and as she walked toward the subway, she pulled her scarf a little tighter.  Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to find a message from Tikki.

 _We have a guest.  Bring coffee_.

“Coffee,” she thought to herself with a determined nod.  “I can do that.”

* * *

About an hour later, Marinette stumbled through the front doors of Miraculeux, eight different coffees in hand.  It wasn’t until she arrived at the cafe that she realized (thanks to the long line) how many people drank coffee in the morning, and it wasn’t until she got to the front of the line that she realized she had no idea who their guest was, or what they drank, so she ended up ordering eight varieties of coffee, having no real expertise with them on her own.  Just to be safe, she threw in a green tea as well. So it was that, half an hour after she was supposed to be there and more than a little flustered, juggling way too much coffee in her tiny, clumsy hands, she staggered into the conference room, vision too overwhelmed by disposable cups to see anyone on the other side of it.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” she exclaimed, doing her best to set the cups down without spilling any of them.  Tikki waved her off.

“Don’t worry about it, darling.  Our guest will be here in about ten minutes, so please, take these and look over them while we wait.”  

Then she handed a folder to the frantic girl, who promptly went to the corner of the room to sit and look through it.  When she opened the file, she at first was confused. There were mostly photographs of a male model wearing varying degrees of clothing.  Almost all of them were revealing, but the majority didn’t even show the model’s face. Those that did, only showed either the lower portion, or, if any part of the upper face was included, it was obscured by a black mask.  It took about two minutes longer than it should have, but suddenly, the pieces clicked.

“Oh my God,” Marinette said, not even realizing she was thinking out loud.  “Chat Noir?” She looked up into Tikki’s amused face. “We’re working with _Chat Noir_?!”

The woman grinned.

“Are you excited?”

Marinette’s jaw hung open for a few seconds without uttering a sound before she stupidly nodded, then resumed drooling looking through the photos in the file.  Those abs, that smirk, the sexy line of his hips, his toned chest- Marinette was doing her best not to spring a female boner.

“I’m delighted you’re looking forward to this because _you_ are going to be the one to design the next outfit he models.”

At this, the flush-faced raven-haired woman’s head jolted upward.

“What?”

Tikki’s grin only grew.

“You’re designing Chat Noir’s next outfit.”  Then she tapped her chin and looked up at the ceiling as though trying to remember something.  “If I recall correctly, he said he wanted something _leather_.”

All the cells in Marinette’s body simultaneously stopped functioning.

“Of course,” Tikki continued, mischievous smirk on her face as she reached for the file, “if you don’t think you’re up to it, I could always let someone else handle it.”

“No!”

The redhead’s eyes went wide in amusement.

“I mean,” Marinette tried, blushing from embarrassment.  “I’d be honored to design something for Chat Noir’s abs. I mean!  For Chat Noir! Not for his abs! Not that his abs aren’t amazing!”

“Well, that’s always flattering to hear,” a deep voice said from somewhere behind Tikki.

All the color drained from Marinette’s face.  Slowly, a blond man in an all-black outfit, complete with black mask, black makeup around the eyes, and contacts that gave him green sclera, sauntered in from the doorway, wide grin stretching across his face as he came to stand in front of her.  Tikki looked on as Marinette shot out of her chair, file still open in hand.

“ _Purr_ -leasure to meet you, _purr_ -incess,” he practically purred, lifting the noirette’s free hand up and bending over to kiss the back of it as she watched, frozen in a combination between fascination and fear.   As he rose from his position and slowly relinquished her hand, his eyes fell on the file. “What do you have there?”

The raven-haired woman finally found her voice.

“Uh, that’s, I mean I…”

Sort of.

Tikki finally took pity on the poor girl.

“We’re looking through your work to see what styles you favor, Monsieur Noir, to help us design something new and unique for your next spread.”

The blond man grinned.

“Call me Chat.”

Tikki nodded her head in affirmation before gesturing toward the conference table.

“Would you have a seat, please?”

Chat grinned, but wouldn’t take his eyes off Marinette.

“May I ask who is this lovely princess?”

The older woman could barely conceal her smirk.

“This is our newest designer, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  She’ll be designing for you.”

It was hard to tell with the mask in the way, but the subtle crinkling of his forehead indicated that Chat was raising an eyebrow.

“Marinette, is it?  That’s a beautiful name, absolutely befitting for a princess.”

As he took a seat, the noirette suddenly realized she had barely spoken since he entered the room.  Frazzled, she rushed to the drinks.

“Monsieur Noir-”

“Chat.”

“-would you like something to drink?  We have several different coffees here, and some green tea, if you prefer.”

As she spoke, she began lifting the cups to examine the different kinds, not even noticing as the man she was speaking to came to stand beside her until she turned around and bumped into him, the lid of the cup falling off and the cup itself dropping between them, spilling its contents down Chat’s stomach and lap.

“Oh my God!  I’m so sorry!” she cried, mouth open in horror.  Desperate to clean up the mess she made and terrified she offended him, she took the scarf off her neck, dropped to her knees, and began trying to soak and wipe the coffee from his front.

“Uh, Marinette, that’s really not-” the blushing blond man tried, but she cut him off.

“Please, Monsieur Noir-”

“Chat.”

“-let me service you!  It’s my fault you’re wet in the first place.”

That was enough to draw a hearty cackle out of the corner of the room, drawing the attention of everyone, and freezing Marinette in place, hand mid-wipe.  There, leaning leisurely against the wall with a triangle of some sort of soft, smelly cheese in hand (Camembert?) was a man, a bit older than them, closer in age to Tikki, and he was clutching his sides, nearly bent over in laughter.

“Geez, sugarcube, where did you find this one?”

“Oh, Plagg, stop it,” Tikki chastised, coming to stand next to Marinette and attempting to induce her to rise up.

“Hey.  Kid. Could you maybe not fondle my client’s genitals?  Not that he’s probably not enjoying it, but I don’t need this meeting to turn X rated.  I’ve got things to do today.”

“Plagg, is that really necessary?” the blond man scolded, forehead crinkled as though frowning, tone much less playful than it had been.  “What do you have to do, anyway, besides eat cheese and take naps?”

“That’s it,” the odd man said, taking another bite.  “That’s what I have to do. Keeps me quite busy.”

Marinette looked between the two men, then down at her hand which was still holding her scarf up to Chat’s crotch.  She jolted upward immediately as though burned, acutely aware of just what she had been doing.

“Oh my God, Monsieur Noir, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean-”

“Please, please,” he said in a soothing voice, taking her wrists in his hands until she returned his gaze.  “Call me Chat.”

She tried to slow her breathing, heart racing from embarrassment, and was just beginning to succeed when he decided to speak again.

“After all, we’ve just got to second base.  It would be a little awkward to revert to surnames now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it, people! Plagg and Chat Noir have made their debut in this story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Alya go out to lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a super short one! Sorry (not too sorry) but I've had difficulty finding time and inspiration to write lately. I got this scene out this evening, and decided to just go ahead and post it for the sake of updating. I'll add more soon (hopefully).

“I.  About.  _Died_ , Alya,” Marinette grunted mournfully, turning her head with an expression of mortification as they found a table inside a small, off-the-beaten-path cafe.  “In fact, I think I may have. This could all be a dream right now. I could be dead and dreaming, cause of death: horrifying, identity-change-inducing embarrassment.”

As she took her seat, the redhead opposite her snorted.

“Girl, you always were a little overdramatic.”

Marinette leaned in, dramatic look still on her face.

“It. Was. Awful.”

Her best friend chuckled, waving a hand flippantly.

“You got to meet the sinfully gorgeous and mysterious Chat Noir.  Girl, if you died, then you must have gone to heaven.”

“No.  If I was in heaven, then it would have been because I _hit that_ , and, sadly, I did not.”

“Hit what?” a deep voice questioned from behind.

The noirette’s head whirled around, completely missing the twinkle of amusement in her friend’s eye.  Her gaze was met with the sight of Adrien and Nino, who were standing just behind her and watching expectantly.  She gaped, face flushing.

“Chat Noir,” Alya offered less-than-helpfully.  Marinette choked and started coughing. “You ok there?” her friend asked, tone carefree and teasing as she lifted up a glass of water.

“Fine,” the woman gritted out.  She practically yanked the glass out of Alya’s hand and took a gulp to stem the coughing fit.

“Why is that?” Adrien asked innocently, frowning slightly as he and Nino came to take the other two chairs at the girls’ lunch table.  “Did he offend you somehow?”

Marinette started coughing again.

“Just the opposite, Bambi,” her traitorous friend supplied while the girl was incapacitated from answering, drinking once again from the glass of water.  “Little miss Ladybug here was explaining just how much she _admires_ him.”

The raven-haired woman swallowed as quickly as she could, holding up a finger to beg for silence as a look of understanding dawned on the blond man’s face.

“As a model!” she finally managed, voice strained.  “I’m very excited to work with him as a designer and a _model_.”

“Oh, I _bet_ you wish he’d model for you-”

“Alya!”

“Ladybug, you… you want to hook up with _Chat Noir_?”  Adrien asked, doing his best to keep the amusement out of his voice, but failing miserably.  His face contorted with the effort not to smirk, and it was clear that Nino was fighting off a laugh as well.

“No!” Marinette squeaked as her face turned beet red.

“But- but you just said you want to ‘ _hit that_ ’,” the man amusedly reminded her.

She brought up her hands to cover her face, ignoring the snickers of her friend.

“Hell.  Not heaven.  This is hell.”

“M’ _lady_ ,” he went on, clearly way too pleased with the entire turn of events.  “I’m so surprised at you. I never would have thought you were so shallow to go for a vapid, self-obsessed _pretty boy_ because of his looks.”

Marinette raised her head, expression deadpan.  He met her gaze with a look of barely suppressed merriment.  It was clear he was enjoying teasing her.

“Why are you here?” she asked with no heat.  “Do you just bring bad luck everywhere you go?  Every time I see you, something happens to me.”

Adrien watched her with a wide grin, eyes crinkled and shining.

“You know, if you’re interested in Chat Noir, I could always put in a good word for you,” he went on.  “We _are_ both models.  I could talk you up in front of him next time I see him.”

Her expression remained unchanged, if somewhat flushed.

“Relax, girl,” Alya finally interrupted, holding out a hand to grab her friend’s arm.  “I invited them. Chill. Let’s have lunch.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes begrudgingly and pursed her lips to one side.  Adrien’s grin didn’t falter, but seemed to grow.

“Fine,” she assented eventually.  “But no more lip from you, Agreste, or your ass is out of here.”

“All right, all right, I give” he agreed, raising both his hands in a show of surrender before lifting a menu.  The four of them sat in silence for a moment as they each considered what to order. Then, the silence broke:

“Your ship name could be Ladynoir.”

“Adrien!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look at that. We added some Ladynoir up in this biznitch.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comment and kudos if you like it ^_^
> 
> <3 Muse


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien receives some orders from his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise known as the one in which Gabriel makes his infamous debut.

“-drien.  Adrien. _Adrien!_ ”

At the sound of his name, Adrien suddenly started out of his trance, looking up in almost surprise at the irritated face of his father.

“Huh?”

Gabriel Agreste assumed his usual composed expression with remarkable speed, but there was a distinct glint of anger behind his cold, impenetrable eyes.  With such a close-up view, Adrien could see the signs of aging and stress taking their toll on his father. The smoothness of his skin, always so astoundingly perfect from his typical lack of facial expression, had begun to show the faintest signs of crinkling at the outer edges of his eyes, between his eyebrows, and even at the corners of his mouth, but that could just be from his slight perpetual frowning.  The younger Agreste gave his father a considering once-over, and realized that there were other indications that stress and time were finally catching up to him.

His pale blond hair was gaining a silver-like sheen, especially at the roots, which was almost indistinguishable from the light hue of his natural hair.  Whereas it was usually perfectly coiffed, tiny wisps were beginning to fall to the side, and closer inspection revealed the expert use of concealer to hide dark circles under each eye.  Gabriel Agreste was always a proud, unyielding man who presented nothing but perfection to the public- from his perfectly pressed clothes, to the shine of his shoes.

Gone was the man Adrien once knew as his père, the one who rolled up his sleeves and got down on his knees to play on the floor with his son- the man who smiled and laughed often, who was never missing from the dinner table, and who never forgot a birthday or special event.  But the day his mother died, and in the months leading up to it in which his father spent a fortune on every possible medical treatment to cure her, all the rest of the light in Gabriel Agreste’s eyes vanished. At twelve years old, Adrien was forced not to deal with the loss of one parent, but two.  And from then on, it became clear that his beloved son, whom he used to adore because of how much he resembled his mother, had become a painful reminder to Gabriel of what he had lost.

In that moment, looking up at the person who gave him life but may as well have been a virtual stranger, Adrien was struck with a severe pain in his heart.  Nothing he did after his mother’s death had ever been enough. His father was never around, always busy with work, but he was never allowed to venture out into the world, or make friends, much less bring them into the now cold, empty, lifeless house he called home.  The only friend he had because of his isolation was the one he had from the beginning- Chloe. And, despite the fact she became quite a mess as an adult, and even got him into a few scandals because of her behavior, he remained by her side. It was difficult to abandon the only friend he had, especially when he understood her so well.  In many ways, they shared the same grief: an absent mother and a father who used material gifts to make up for his neglectful parenting.

It was even difficult to get close to people as an adult, Adrien found.  The only individuals he came into contact with were other models, who usually wanted to use his name and connections to advance their careers, and fans who claimed to love him but knew nothing real about him.  They worshipped his perfect image, completely ignorant to the struggle and the loneliness hidden underneath. Aside from tabloids, no one dared ever insult or disparage him. And then one day, while he was trying to lay low after having escaped from his bodyguard, he found a girl on a subway car who drew on his picture.  Fascinated, he followed her, not even understanding himself why he wanted to know so badly who she was. She was pretty, for sure, but even more interesting than that was that she didn’t buy into the carefully crafted lie that was Adrien Agreste. Once she realized who he was, she didn’t beg for his forgiveness, either. And he only wanted to know her more.  Her honesty won him over, but her striking blue eyes and midnight-black hair didn’t hurt. She was the most beautiful and exotic thing he had ever seen, and he was captivated by her. She had been on his mind ever since.

Which brought him to this moment.

“Adrien!”

The blond man blinked stupidly, somehow only just realizing that his father was calling his name, and becoming more frustrated with each passing moment as Adrien didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry, père, can you say that again?”

From his position sitting in one of the many chairs of a conference room, he leaned back, overwhelmed by the entirety of his father’s tall stature towering over him.

“Would you care to explain why you have been so distracted lately?  Perhaps you have too much free time on your hands? I can always have Nathalie add more activities to your schedule.”

Adrien sighed but did not respond, relatively sure his father would simply move on to the subject he clearly wanted to discuss.  Gabriel Agreste was not a man who ever enjoyed wasting time. Adrien had the fleeting thought that, despite being in his twenties, his father still treated him like a child.

As expected, the tall, aging man turned and stalked toward the distant end of the table, muttering the whole way.

“ _That Nino Lahiffe has always been a bad influence on you._ ”

There was nothing mature about the way the younger Agreste rolled his eyes, but he didn’t care in the least.

“Is there something you wanted to tell me, father?”

“Clearly.”  The standing man turned to face his son.  “Otherwise, why would I waste time not only bringing you here, but calling your name fruitlessly for the last few minutes trying to get your attention?  Do you think I do not have better things to do?”

Adrien bit his cheek to keep from responding sarcastically.

Gabriel slapped a folder on the tabletop between them, startling him.

“This woman.  She’s a recent graduate and a new hire at Miraculeux.  I want you to find out as much as you can about her and report back to me.”

The sunshine blond’s pulse quickened, and slowly, tentatively, he pulled the folder closer, not even daring to look up at his father as he cautiously opened it.  There, sitting on top of a small stack of papers, some of which looked to be a college transcript, others various stages of designs, was a photograph of Marinette.  It was a candid one, taken somewhere on a university campus, and she was smiling, looking off into some other direction, clearly unaware the photo was even being taken.  Adrien’s heart lurched. With a carefully concealed tremor, he slowly closed the folder again and slid it away.

“What does this have to do with me?  Don’t you have people who do this sort of thing?  What, is Nathalie too busy with running your entire business?”

His father’s eyes narrowed, but otherwise he didn’t move a muscle.

“Do you really think that I do not know where you are at all times, Adrien?  Your little excursions are a mere illusion, as is your current ability to live ‘independently,’ as you like to call it.  Those things can be taken away from you at any moment unless you continue to do as I say.”

Adrien clenched a fist under the table, refusing to look away from the imposing man’s intense gaze.

“I don’t care how you do it.  You can follow her, get close to her, buy information from people who know her.  You can even have whatever fun you want with her as long as it doesn’t interfere with my business, just get it done.  I want to know _everything_ there is to know about Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit of plot introduction. Hopefully it's not too heavy! Next chapter will (probably) be a little lighter.
> 
> (But honestly, I haven't even decided what's going to happen in it, much less written it yet hehe)
> 
> Thanks for reading again! Lemme know what you think in the comments
> 
> <3 Muse


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien takes a walk and runs into someone unexpected (but not really).

Adrien walked in an aimless stupor throughout the streets of Paris, shrouded in a black hoodie, sunglasses, and a billed cap.  Truthfully, he wasn’t even sure where he was, much less where he was going. He was only vaguely aware of the crowds parting and reconnecting as he passed through, but that was probably because of the turmoil going through his head.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was glad no one had recognized him.

Just what did his father want with Marinette, he wondered, and why did he have a file on her in the first place?

Adrien knew it had something to do with his business.  After all, Gabriel never did anything that didn’t benefit him in some way.  Was she poachable talent? Competition? A threat? There were a few times in the past that the Gabriel corporation had perceived other companies as threats, and that had never ended very pleasantly for any of those rival groups.  In a couple of instances, Adrien wasn’t sure if the person who “crossed” Gabriel was even still living. But Marinette couldn’t be a threat, right? Like his father said, she was a recent graduate, a new hire- an intern, of all things.  Then again, she was poised to become a quickly rising talent in the industry. Thanks to her talent, she was even designing for Chat Noir, despite her relative lack of professional experience.

Adrien smiled proudly at the thought.  He was beyond excited to be working with her, even if he couldn’t tell anyone about it.  The only ones who knew the person behind the mask were Plagg (of course), Nino, and Tikki.  Not even his father knew about his secret identity, but that was kind of the point. He was desperate to put as much space between himself and his father as he could, especially when it came to work.  Having an entire job that wasn’t controlled or scheduled by his parent-turned-pimp was the only thing that kept him going sometimes.

His image as the masked man in black was far removed from that of the face of the Gabriel brand, which was what he wanted.  When Chat Noir first appeared on the scene a few years before, there was quite a bit of hype about the mysterious new model, and, along with the hype, came speculation.  A few articles even ran suggesting there were quite a few similarities between himself and the masked blond. To derail the public’s suspicions, he resorted to tricking a fan-acquaintance of his who resembled him somewhat, Wayhem, into dressing like Adrien and masquerading out in the open with Chat Noir.  Magazines and tabloids ran pictures of the two men in the same place, Adrien told Wayhem he had been forbidden by his father from actually attending the get together because of “conflict of interest,” and no one ever claimed he was Chat Noir again. On occasion, he paid body doubles to be in a certain location on a specific day, and purposely appeared as Chat Noir in another part of the city simultaneously, just to keep the possibility off the table.  It was a pretty solid system.

Chat Noir’s starpower grew until he could pick and choose jobs as he pleased.  It provided quite a bit of extra money on the side, money his father didn’t know about and which was placed into a secret account to avoid it falling into his controlling hands.  Adrien saved up so much, that he finally got to start the business he always wanted to run- a bar which he tongue-in-cheek gave a masked theme and called Le Paon in honor of his late mother, who loved peacocks and once modeled an entire line inspired by the birds (designed by his father, of course).  It wasn’t unusual for Chat Noir to be seen at the club, or Adrien Agreste, for that matter, though the owner largely remained a mystery.

Adrien turned into a park, kicking pebbles under his feet as he followed the path.  Hands in his pockets, he kept his head low as he looked around, wondering what his father stood to gain from stalking Marinette, when a head of uniquely blue-black hair caught his eye.  He stopped in place, small green leaves fluttering around the edges of this vision in the light breeze. Just a few meters away, a small, petite woman sat on a bench with her back to him.  Her midnight hair seemed to glow in the sunshine, collected into a slightly messy bun on the top of her head, with loose strands dancing about with the wind.

Without realizing what he was doing, Adrien took a few steps forward until she was just out of reach, close enough for him to hear her sigh.  Her head tipped back as she raised her chin, her gaze seeming to direct somewhere up and in front of her as an arm lifted the pencil in her hand to tap it thoughtfully against her jaw.  She sat that way for a minute or so, then looked back down at the book open in her lap.

It was a sketchbook, he could see, and there were several messy sketches, some scratched out, some not, along with tiny notes on the margins, including a few question marks.  The main article was clear though- a jacket of some kind, most likely leather, but the designs were quite varied. Some were more traditional in style, whereas others were clearly intended to be more fitted.  In the lower corner, she scrawled out: “full bodysuit?”

Taking in her drawings sent Adrien into a trance until he essentially forgot she was even there.  It wasn’t until she groaned in frustration and turned to a new page that he felt compelled to speak.

“What you got there, Ladybug?”

The woman in front of him started, practically jumping out of her seat, and whirled around.  Her expression clearly conveyed her surprise, and one hand protectively cradled the book to her chest while the other grasped the back of the bench for stability.  She blinked a few times while Adrien laughed quietly to himself. She was cute when she was skittish.

It took a few seconds, but she seemed to recognize him (though it probably helped that he lowered his sunglasses enough for her to see his eyes and winked).  

“Oh,” she said on an exhale, “it’s you.”

She began to turn back around, so Adrien replaced his glasses back to their former position and walked around the bench to take the spot beside her.

“A ladybug in a park,” he mused aloud, grinning, “who would have thought?”

Marinette turned to direct an unamused expression his way, but the quirk of her lip gave her away.

“Ha ha.  Hilarious.  You should be a comedian.”

“I tried, but my father wouldn’t let me,” he retorted, and she smiled, laughing lightly.

She seemed to settle back in comfortably, and he could only watch her.  Even from just her profile, she was stunning, more so in the brilliant light of day.  She gazed down at the book in her lap with renewed focus and began to sketch, not even aware of the way the slight wind and the sound of birds were adding to her whole charm.  Curious, he looked at her sketchbook and asked:

“What are you working on?”

Marinette grumbled, a light blush painting her cheeks.

Reluctantly, she answered, “Something for Chat Noir.”

Adrien grinned stupidly, remembering their last conversation about Chat Noir.

“Oh, is that so, my lady?  What are you designing for him?  Leather whips?”

To his delight, the woman beside him turned tomato red and started sputtering.

“N- no!  Th- that’s not- I mean, I w- would never-”

She cut herself off there, shaking her head and fighting the flush in her face as best she could.

“You’re insufferable, Adrien Agreste.  Has anyone ever told you that before?”

“Shh,” he hushed her, though there was a laugh in his voice as she refused to look up.  “Everyone is going to hear you, and then my cover will be blown.”

Her head was not ducking low enough for him to miss the roll of her eyes.

“Relax,” she responded begrudgingly.  “Your secret is safe with me.”

Adrien hummed happily and leaned back, tingling with warmth all over at her admission, even if it she didn’t fully understand what she was saying.  A few seconds of comfortable silence reigned.

“What’s giving you trouble?”

Marinette sighed and shook her head absent-mindedly.  Straightening, she ceased her drawing and instead took a long look at the figures on the pages.

“I just can’t get it right.  I think I have a few ideas for several different pieces that we could use, but I want to include something truly unique, something no one would really expect for a fashion shoot.  You know?”

Then she turned her face upward, and Adrien felt like he was sucker-punched by the endless blue of her eyes.  Thankfully, she didn’t torture him for long, but started rifling through the other designs she had drafted.

When he recovered enough, he jokingly answered, “Well, there’s always the whip.”

He was expecting to get a laugh out of her, or at least a rise.  But there was no cute blush of her cheeks, no adorable stammering that made him want to shut her up with a searing kiss.  Instead, she whipped her head back around, dangerous gleam in her eye, and gave him the most enticing expression of determination he had ever seen.

“That’s actually a great idea.”

Adrien tried not to choke on his own spit.

“What?” he squeaked, but she was already back to sketching, and she was doing it furiously.

“I mean, not literally, but it gives me an idea.”

Her pencil flew all over the page, sowing lines that coalesced into shapes and eventually came together into a cohesive form.  Within a few minutes, she sat back with a satisfied sigh, and gazed down at what she had created.

It was a full-body, skin tight suit, complete with gloves and combat-style boots, all in black.  The front had zippered pockets, and the suit itself seemed to close with a long zipper stretching from the groin to the neck, topped with a gold bell.  Around the waist was a black belt, but it trailed long at the rear like a tail, and was square at the distal end, like a whip, and tipped in metal. Adrien couldn’t decide if he was more excited or scared.

After a few moments of staring stupidly, he realized Marinette was talking.

“-of course I’ll also make a leather jacket, and pants, and probably some sort of underclothes or vest, but this will be the main article, the piece de resistance.  What do you think?”

Realizing he was incapable of words, Adrien only nodded, gaze still glued to the design in front of them.

“Now,” Marinette continued pensively, almost to herself, “I need to add some color to these other pieces, but I’m not sure how.”  And she turned back to the jacket sketches. “Maybe the inner lining? But what color?”

Suddenly, Adrien’s eyes were on her, and he couldn’t look away, didn’t even know if he wanted to.  Her brow was furrowed in thought, and her nose scrunched in the most kissable way. He couldn’t help himself.

“Green.”

The noirette looked at him, her blue eyes like a siren’s song, pulling him in.

“What?”

“Green.  Like the color of meadows in the spring.  To match his eyes.”  

She stared at him for a minute, mouth slightly agape.  Then, she echoed:

“Green.”

Adrien smiled.

“Green.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two give me toothaches *heart eyes*
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked this offering.
> 
> Please take time to leave kudos and/or a comment!
> 
> <3 Muse


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Adrien continue their conversation in the park until something interrupts them.

“So, what do you think then?”

“Hmm?” Adrien startled to attention as he and Marinette walked side by side, belatedly realizing that, while he was very much staring at Marinette’s face, he definitely was too distracted by the movement of her lips to hear the words that were actually coming out of them.

The girl in front of him bit her lip in amusement, drawing his attention once again away from her eyes, but he quickly snapped his gaze back upward and hoped she didn’t catch the slip.  A light breeze rustled around them, catching wisps of her long, side swept bangs and tossing them whimsically about her delicate features.

“Adrien~” she said on a laugh, bright blue eyes shining, “did you hear anything I just said?”

“Umm... yes?”

She shook her head.

“Then tell me what it was.”

There were a few seconds of quiet while Adrien’s mind frantically raced through the words that he had managed to catch and attempted to piece them together into something coherent.

“Uhh... there was- you were saying you wanted me... to meet Chat Noir?”

Marinette’s smile grew a little wider, her eyes crinkling at the edges, and she faced forward.  The quiet sound of a chuckle emanated from her throat, barely audible over the sound of their steps on the garden’s path.  Both her hands tucked deeper into her jacket pockets, her sketchbook held securely in one of Adrien’s hands.

“I  _ said _ ... I was hoping I could borrow your body one of these days.”

Adrien felt warmth flood his cheeks as his eyes immediately widened, barely holding back a choke at the implication of her words.  In the back of his mind, an instinctual  _ Oh, yes, please _ echoed.

Then, as though she realized exactly what she said, Marinette’s own bluebell eyes grew comically round, and she pulled both hands out of her jacket to reach out and grab Adrien’s arms, stopping them both.

“I mean!” she began, clearly panicking.  “I wanted to measure you! For clothes! So I can make some prototype pieces!  Because you look about Chat Noir’s size! I just! Ahh!”

The blond man watched as her words tumbled out one after another, each one more desperate and flustered than the last.  The color of her complexion quickly transitioned from her usual rosy fairness to a deep scarlet. Even her fingers dug into his biceps with more strength than he thought she had, and probably more than she realized she was using, but he ignored it.

To be honest, once the shock of the statement wore off, and her true intent was clear, Adrien found himself quite enamored with the sight of his Ladybug embarrassed beyond description.  What’s more, he realized, it was becoming quite a common occurrence to see her this way since the first time he met her, albeit, never quite as dramatically as this time.

Adrien leaned in closely, mischievous expression on his face.  One half of his mouth curled up in a devious smirk, and his eyes narrowed.

“Ladybug,” he pronounced carefully.  “Are you lying?”

If it was possible, Marinette’s eyes widened more, nearly eclipsing the upper half of her face.

The rest of the model’s mouth lifted in a teeth-baring grin.

“You just want to use me for my body, is that it?”

“What?” she asked, somewhat breathless.  “No! That’s not- Adrien, I would never-”

But before she could finish that sentence, the man in front of her stood up straight again, his head falling back in a carefree laugh.  When he looked down at her, the green of his irises seemed to sparkle, practically hidden underneath eyelids squinting in mirth.

“I’m just teasing you, Ladybug.  Relax.”

He turned to face forward on the path, crooking out his free elbow to the woman beside him.

She simply stared, clearly a few steps short of understanding.  Then, all at once, her expression shifted from one of mortification to something much more calculating.  Her jaw ticked a bit, and she peered at him out of unreadable eyes, gaze shifting back and forth from his face to his arm.

“I hope you enjoyed that,” Marinette finally stated, taking his arm somewhat roughly in more-feigned-than-genuine ire.  “Because I’m going to get you back for it.”

Adrien laughed as the two of them took a step forward together.  Just as he mused to himself that he was really looking forward to whatever she would do as pay back, a tiny flash caught his eye.

All amusement immediately evaporated, and he briefly paused in his step, vision irresistibly arrested by a bush not too far away.

“Adrien?”

Marinette’s unsure voice drifted up from beside him, mingling with the quiet hum of other park visitors, the subtle sound of the wind ruffling through the trees, and his own blood rushing in his ears.  A few seconds longer and...

There it was again, this time unmistakeable.  He had spent enough of his life around cameras to recognize the glint of the sun on a lens from a distance.  Reflexively, he lifted up the elbow Marinette was holding and draped his arm around her shoulders, bringing her face closer to his chest.  At the same time, he lifted the hand holding her sketchbook and lowered his cap further down on his face.

“Adrien?” she asked again, this time with a tinge of concern.

“Come on.  Let’s get out of here,” he said simply, and turned them back the way they came.

Seeming to recognize the immediacy of the situation though ignorant of the cause, she didn’t resist or question him as they began walking at a much more brisk pace, despite the fact it was slightly difficult because of their position.

Odds were, it was just another paparazzo, trying to catch a picture of the Agreste heir with a woman, but his meeting with his father just several days before made Adrien feel incredibly uneasy.  More often than not, Gabriel only hired the best- and the best were smarter than getting caught hiding behind herbage. Still, the image of Marinette’s candid photographs were indelibly imprinted on his mind, and he would be damned if he stood by as more were added to them.

He still had no idea what his father even wanted from her, or why he was interested.  And he knew that he would find a way to save the special girl under his arm from the calloused, icy clutches of Gabriel Agreste- fashion mogul and sociopath.  But he hadn’t figured out exactly how yet. Until that time, he would be performing a delicate balancing act between appearing to give his father what he wanted and protecting his lady.

Once they made it out of the park’s entrance, Adrien’s eyes darted about, searching for the best place for them both to get “lost.”  Or rather, to lose the person most likely now pursuing them.

“Someone was following us, I think,” he tried to explain.  “We need somewhere to hide.”

As he searched the surrounding area, he felt Marinette duck out from under his arm and grab his wrist, pulling him toward the other side of the street.

“Come on,” she told him, not even looking back.  Her tone brooked no arguments, not that Adrien would dare question her.  He followed her quite willingly, resisting the urge to smile like an idiot as she tugged him along.

They crossed to the opposite corner, swiftly passing through the double doors of the bakery situated in that spot.  Marinette headed straight for the back of the small, quaint store, hurriedly addressing the proprieters as she did so.

“Maman, papa,” she urgently called, voice low, “code red.”

The short, clearly Asian woman behind the counter watched as the two of them breezed past, then took a quick look around the room to make sure no one was currently inside before locking the entry door and flipping a sign that said “closed.”

By that point, both Marinette and Adrien had disappeared up the stairs, but the older woman was close on her heels.  She only stopped momentarily to peek into the kitchen and alert her husband.

“Tom, code red.”

The giant, gentle man looked up, bright green eyes almost childlike, giving him a rather endearing appearance, despite his enormous size.  Just as quickly as the small woman came, though, she was gone.

Tom swiftly pulled out the just-finished goods from the oven before turning it off and heading up the same stairs the previous three individuals had climbed.

Both he and his wife were well accustomed to their daughter’s emergency codes.  There were times as a teenager when she would do something unexpected, like bringing home a stray kitten, or when she would need refuge from someone she wasn’t keen on talking to.  For these occasions, they eventually developed a system. In this system, code red meant she needed a place to hide, and she didn’t want anyone coming to look for her. It was used mostly during the period in which she was bullied by a girl at school- a Lila Rossi- and her friends seemed to almost turn on her for a while.  Since those days passed, she never used it again, making Tom wonder what could possibly make her seek safe haven.

When he emerged through the main door, the sight that greeted him was quite surprising.

His wife stood in the middle of the room, and on the couch was Marinette.  Seated next to her was a tall, blond man roughly her own age, wearing a black hoodie and a baseball cap.  The man’s face was mostly hidden by the bill, but Tom could tell he was quite good looking.

“Maman, papa,” his daughter greeted.  The man seated on the couch then looked up, revealing his face.  Both Marinette’s parents’ eyebrows flew up to their hairlines. “This is my friend, Adrien Agreste.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Adrien spend some time in her old room. Revelations happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a longer chapter for once! Low-key, I was gonna update BL, but then I was like "well, expectations is a bit easier at this point in the stories, and besides SNUGGLEBUTTKITTEN HAS BEEN ASKING FOR A COUPLE WEEKS."
> 
> So you're welcome MBK.
> 
> <3 Senpai

“... so we really just need a place to hide out and lay low for a little while until the coast is clear.  If for some reason anyone comes into the bakery looking for us, obviously you didn’t see anyone. Any questions?”

Tom and Sabine stared at their daughter from their positions in two chairs directly opposite the couch as she finished her explanation, having spoken almost too fast through the entire thing for them to catch more than a few words here and there.

“You…” Tom barely began before immediately stopping.  “You’re friends with a famous model?”

Marinette sighed before rising up from the couch to stand.

“You never miss a thing, papa,” she said, then leaned over and kissed her father’s forehead.  “We’ll be upstairs.”

Grabbing Adrien’s hand, she led him toward the stairs.  The blond followed along, somewhat surprised, but managed to get out a few words in the process.

“I really appreciate you letting me into your home,” he managed hurriedly as Marinette pulled him behind her.  “It’s really a pleasure to meet you!”

Immediately after, the trapdoor in her bedroom floor slammed shut, and the couple looked at each other with similar expressions.

Tom was the first to speak.

“Sabine, there’s a boy in Marinette’s room.”

* * *

“You can just make yourself at home,” Marinette declared, plopping her purse down onto the chaise and making her way over to a computer desk.

The room was like a pink explosion, with pink walls, accents, and even furniture.  There was a mannequin in one corner, a loft bed, a tall mirror, and a vanity table.  Adrien turned in a complete circle, taking it all in.

“It’s very… pink.”

Marinette huffed, but looked away from him before he could see the light blush in her cheeks.

“I had a… pink phase,” she eventually offered.

Adrien’s chuckle rang in her ears, sending her stomach into flutters.  When she turned to face his direction, the dimples in his cheeks, the crinkling of his eyes and the way they shone so bright green, they were almost glowing, felt like an arrow to her heart.

“A phase?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.  “My lady, what you have here is an obsession.”

Marinette turned around again, one hand self-consciously raising up to touch a warm cheek, and shook her head.  She jiggled the computer mouse and waited for the computer to wake up, reminding herself of what she was doing- checking to see if anything had been posted online.

“It was only for a good year… or four.”

Adrien guffawed loudly somewhere off in a corner, but she was too busy pulling up a browser to pay attention.  While she navigated the internet, he walked down the length of her room, looking at all the photos and sketches she had displayed on her walls.  Even though they were years old and drawn by a teenager, the sketches were quite good. He wouldn’t be surprised if, with a little work, they could still be made into sellable pieces.

The photographs made him smile.  Pictures of Marinette as a child, a teen, and a young adult.  In most, she was with her friends- smiling widely with a missing tooth in one, holding up a finished piece of clothing she created in another, smiling so wide all her teeth and braces were showing.  There were pictures of her playing video games, getting ice cream, even at sports matches holding up banners. But in a few others, she was with some famous figures. One picture had her next to Jagged Stone, thumb lifted up while he made a rock on symbol with his hand, the other arm draped around her shoulders.  On his face sat his most famous pair of glasses- the ones he wore at every concert for years with blue, red, and white Eiffel Towers. Next to that was a framed cover of his Rock Giant album, signed by Jagged Stone. In another she was next to Clara Nightingale, another XY, and yet another with Audrey Bourgeois, though she looked notably less comfortable beside the fashion ice queen.  Finally, there were several with her next to a boy with blue-tipped hair. The smile on her face in those photos made Adrien’s heart skip a beat and his face flush.  

At last he came to the end of the wall where the pictures ended, bumping into a chest on the floor with his feet.  Curious, he peeked down at the trunk before leaning down and lifting the lid. What met his sight was something truly remarkable.

“My _lady,_ ” he uttered reverently, reaching in and pulling out a stack of papers, shuffling through them.

Marinette, half-distracted, simply responded, “hmm?” and continued searching through the internet.

“This is-” he stopped, unable to talk around the face-splitting grin on his face.  It was so wide, all his teeth were exposed, and the muscles in his cheeks actually ached. 

In his hands rested a pile of his ads and photos from the time he first startled modelling as a young teenager, to about the time he started doing more adult-themed shoots.  There were dozens of them, many of them drawn on with little hearts or scribbles of _Marinette Agreste_.  Adrien was unable to stop the giggle of glee that began bubbling out of this throat.

Marinette, meanwhile, was glad she hadn’t found anything about their meeting in the park.  She closed the browsers and pulled her phone out of her pocket to set her alert to any new stories about Adrien Agreste.  As she was doing this, the sound of Adrien laughing caught her attention. She turned around expectantly, only for her eyes to blow wide when she realized what he was doing. 

“Adrien!” she practically shrieked.  Marinette flew out of the desk chair and over to the blond man in fractions of a second, half-snatching the stack of pictures out of his hands and clutching them to her chest.  “What are you doing?”

The mirth in his face was impossible to disguise.

“Ladybug, how could you not tell me about your crush on me?” he asked, way too pleased. 

“I do _not_ have a crush on you!” she hurried to correct him. “And you shouldn’t be going through a stranger’s things!”

“Aww, bugaboo, don’t be upset,” he told her.  Bending his knees and leaning back, the tall man did his best to place himself on the same eye-level as the flustered girl in front of him.  “We’re not strangers, are we? Besides, I think it’s cute~”

Marinette’s face flamed. Mortified, she stomped around him to the chest and stuffed the papers inside. As she was doing so, something caught Adrien’s eye. 

Inside the chest were multiple packages, and they were all wrapped like presents.  The curious cat in him wouldn’t let him pass up the opportunity, so while she was stuffing things down, he bent over and looked a little closer.  All of the packages had gift tags, and _all_ of them were addressed to Adrien Agreste.

“ _Holy shit_ ,” he whispered, awed.  

Marinette whirled around, horrified to see him so close.  The lid to the chest slammed shut the next instant, but instead of jumping up, pushing him away, or even yelling at him, she simply hunched over in her spot, face hidden from view, and didn’t move for several moments.

It occurred to Adrien then that something was really wrong.  Swallowing, he reached out a tentative hand toward Marinette’s shoulder before thinking better of it and pulling it back.

“...Marinette?”

“...You weren’t supposed to see that,” she said quietly.  “I’m… really sorry, Adrien.”

He stepped back, surprised, before forcing himself to stand in one place.  Both his fists clenched at his sides as he resisted the urge to even move. Sometimes, he felt like bad luck incarnate, and everything he touched ended up damaged.

“No, please don’t say that,” he replied, voice equally as low.  “It’s me who should be sorry. I never should have snooped into your stuff.  I guess I’m just too impulsive, and I don’t always think through the things I do.”

Marinette gave a dry laugh, but still didn’t turn to face him.  There were a few seconds of silence before he ventured to speak again.

“Were those… all for me?”

For a beat, all he heard was a sigh.  Then she was slowly rising up to full height and gradually turned around.  Her entire face was red, starting with her hairline, cresting the tips of her ears, down her neck and reaching below the neckline of her shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien blurted, worried that he was making things worse.  “You don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my business.”

_Why can’t I just shut up?_

A wry smile started to grow on her face, and her eyes fell a bit lower until they were looking at some invisible point off to the side.

“It’s really ok.  I probably should have gotten rid of this stuff years ago.  I guess I just didn’t want to throw away stuff I spent so much time making them.  Kind of felt like a waste, you know? Even if you were never going to see them.”

“Wait- you… you _made_ all those?”

Marinette nodded, her lower lip drawn in and pinned underneath her teeth.  Where the two made contact, the skin was white.

“Please don’t hate me,” she finally offered, “but I lowkey had a crush on your for a while as a teenager and may have made you a gift for every birthday and special occasion until you turn 30.”

Adrien’s eyes bugged out of his head as he wrapped him mind around that.

“Ugh, I know, it’s so embarrassing,” the noirette lamented and lifted up her hands to cover her face.

“No, no, please, it’s ok, really.”  Unable to stop himself any longer, he crossed the distance between them and gingerly grabbed her wrists.  With very little effort, he pulled her hands away from her face, but he wasn’t prepared for the effect of her large, bluebell eyes staring up at him with such vulnerability.  Dropping her wrists, he stepped back again. “I, uh, I guess I was just surprised because you… well, I thought you hated me when we met.”

When Marinette’s face flushed again, it was in shame.  She felt so guilty for the assumptions she had made about him because of some fabricated stories.  With everything she had, she wished she could take that years-long resentment back.

“I never… _hated_ you.  It’s just- oh God, this will sound so creepy.”

To her surprise, and a bit of relief, Adrien chuckled a little.

“Don’t sorry, my lady.  I can tell you plenty of horror stories later.  From what I know of you, you don’t seem like the type to cross any boundaries- personal or legal.”

“Ok,” she said on an exhale and tried to calm her racing heart.  “So, please don’t judge me for this, because I was a lame teenager who had no experience with relationships of any kind, so just, ok?”

Adrien fought off a smile and nodded.

“So, as you have seen, I had a little bit of a crush on you when I was younger.”

He snorted, but following her look of displeasure, composed himself again.

“Sorry.  Continue.”

“All right, so at first, I started collecting your photos because I wanted to design, and I liked the clothes you modelled.  I wanted to use them for inspiration.” She paused. “But after a while, I started to feel like I could really see who you were in the pictures, and I started paying a lot more attention to your face instead of the clothes you were wearing.  It wasn’t long before I was searching out every publication you appeared in and watching your commercial ads on repeat.” Her face coloured a little, but she swallowed and plowed on. “It was that way for a few years until I heard something that made me doubt the kind of person I had imagined you to be.  You see, there was this girl who I went to school with. She was a bully and a liar, but she was so good at what she did, that no one ever knew what she was doing. She claimed to know all these famous people and do so many amazing things, but I knew she wasn’t telling the truth, so I called her out. She threatened to isolate me from my friends.  It took a couple of years, but she managed to systematically undermine my reputation and my trustworthiness with everyone I knew until I was virtually alone. I never believed a word I said… until she said something about you.”

Adrien’s mouth fell open a little, but he couldn’t think of what to say.  Marinette took a breath and continued, though she had begun to direct her gaze at the floor.

“It was really petty, but I guess I was so insecure by that point after having been worn down emotionally and mentally by her, that I ended up believing what she said, and after that, all those stories about you in tabloids started appearing.  Even after I figured out she was lying, your reputation was damaged in my eyes, and there was no undoing that. Call it stupidity or stubbornness, but I’m really sorry I was so unfair to you. I didn’t even _know_ you, so even if all of that was true, it wasn’t like you owed me anything anyway.  Like I said, I was just a stupid teenager.”

“Hey.”

Two large hands appeared in her vision and grasped onto hers.

“You don’t have to be sorry.  We all make mistakes, and its the past anyway.  Can we just… start over? Sort of? From, like, our meeting post-your interview?  Because I admit I probably didn’t make a very good impression on you after I stalked you off the train.”

Marinette laughed suddenly and airily.  The weight in her chest felt much lighter.  Her lips cracked into a smile, and she nodded.

“Good,” he said, returning her smile, “because I’ve made my own share of bad decisions, and, not gonna lie, I could use a clean slate.”

Her whole face seemed to soften as she said, “Me too.”

“But I do have one question for you.”

The woman before him gave him a suspicious look.

“And what’s that?”

“Can I open all my presents?”

It was impossible not to laugh at the adorable look on his face.  Adrien Agreste, sex symbol and former teen idol, was wearing the same expression of a dog begging.  All the same, she couldn’t help but be slightly mortified by the request. Her face contorted from the feeling until her eyes squinted shut.

“Oh my Gooood, Adrien.  You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am, my lady.  You see, I just so happened to get the same birthday present from my father every year: a fountain pen.  And, full disclosure, I’m a hundred percent sure his assistant is the one who bought it for me every time.”

Marinette looked into his eyes, horrified, for any sign of joking or exaggeration, but she could find none.  Right then, her heart broke a little.

“Actually, that’s a lie,” he amended, and she breathed a little easier.  But then he kept going. “One year, I got this really soft, gorgeous blue scarf instead.  In fact, I still have that scarf, but I eventually figured out it was actually a gift someone sent in fan mail.  So, I’ve gotten _one_ good present my whole life, and it wasn’t even from my own father.”

That small crack in her chest grew into a giant crevasse as all the breath in her body whooshed out of her.

“Did you just say… blue scarf?”

_Could this be real?_

Adrien nodded, and suddenly, Marinette felt a little numb in the legs.

She tottered awkwardly over to the chest without explanation and lowered down on shaking legs.  Lifting the lid, she started pulling out packages and looking at the writing on the tags until she came to a small, flat, rectangular one.  Once again, she carefully turned around and slowly rose up to stand, box extended out toward Adrien. He reached for it, almost afraid of what was inside, but accepted it nonetheless.  With trembling fingers, he pulled at the wrapping, revealing a box within. The lid lifted so easily.

“Like this?”

Marinette’s voice carried over to him like an echo.

Inside the box sat a pair of soft blue mittens in the exact shade and material as his scarf.  

He reached in and lifted up a single mitten, bringing it up to rub it softly against his cheek.  When he looked at Marinette again, he realized she was watching him intently.

“It was _you?_ ”

The silence in the room felt heavy.  From the look on her face, he couldn’t tell whether she wanted to disappear, throw up, or run away.  Yet, despite the conflicting emotions playing across her features, she smiled and nodded.

It couldn’t have been more than a couple of meters, but Adrien crossed the distance between them in a single bound and wrapped her up in a warm embrace.  His chin rested on her shoulder, his eyes closed, as he felt her hands land delicately on his shoulders.

“Thank you, Ladybug,” he whispered, hoping against hope he wouldn’t break down into tears of gratitude for the person who had cared about him all along- even when he didn’t realize it, when he was at his lowest.

A small sniff reached his hearing, and then:

“Marinette,” came her soft, quiet voice, so close to his heart.  “My name is Marinette.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think
> 
> <3333 Muse


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Adrien's brief time together receives and unexpected interruption.  Sure she's a love pariah, Marinette heads out for a drink and ends up with more than she bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: My dear MBK, EpicLilKitty, SnuggleButtKitten, it finally happened!  Here is the new chapter I have been promising you for months!
> 
> Second of all: jeez, y'all.  I've been so busy lately, it's affecting my sanity.  But thank you all for sticking with me!  I promise to continue all my stories to the end.
> 
> That said, I have no clue exactly when this fic will update again.
> 
> Please don't hate me lol

“So, wait, you have a cat named after your mentor?”

Marinette giggled a little but remained focused on her task.  They were in the main room of her apartment, and Adrien stood before her, patiently remaining still while she took various measurements and made notes on a page.  Several times, her hands slid over his shoulders or down his back or chest, sending his heart racing, but he did his best to ignore it.

“Yea,” she answered, shaking her head.  “You see...” she lifted her sketchbook and began dragging her pencil swiftly all over the page.  Her eyes stayed attentively focused, flitting back and forth between Adrien and the book in her hand.  “When I was still in university, Tikki was my professional contact, so I used to meet with her often and consult with her on the project I had to complete to receive my degree.  It was… kind of like a final test whether I deserved to graduate or not, and it was really demanding because I had to design and create basically an entire line. Anyway,” here she shook her head as though to dispel distracted tangents, “we met at a coffee shop one evening.  It was Autumn, so it was pretty cold and rainy. When we left, we went in opposite directions, only for her to show up at my door less than an hour later with a soaking wet kitten in her arms.”  

Adrien’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but he said nothing, waiting for her to finish her story.  Marinette smiled nostalgically, then went on.  

“I guess not long after she left the cafe, she passed by an alley and heard it crying.  It was so small and shivering, and probably hungry, but there weren’t any other cats around, and she hated the thought of leaving it out there probably to starve to death if it didn’t freeze first.  But the building she lived in had a strict policy on pets, and besides that, she admitted that she actually had a cat allergy. So, she thought instantly of me, and it only took a call or two for her to get my address.  The rest is history. I took one look at the tiny little ginger fur ball and couldn’t say no. Tikki’s kind of like her part-time mama. She comes to visit her whenever she can, pre-dosed with allergy medication. Tikki the cat is a spoiled queen now, and I like to think she’s pretty lucky.  She’s always been _my_ lucky charm, at least.  I’ve only had good fortune since she came into my life.”

Marinette finally looked up, her pencil stilling on the page.  

Adrien couldn’t help the intent way he watched her, electric blue of her eyes shooting through him like a bolt of lightning straight to his chest.  She smiled, blushing slightly, and he took a subconscious step forward. Without even thinking about it, he lifted a hand and tucked some stray midnight locks behind her ear, ducking his head slightly closer.  

“I think your luck is catching,” he murmured. 

Marinette didn’t back away, but slowly began to close her eyes, rising up just minutely onto the balls of her feet.  He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, couldn’t even close them. She was so warm and so close, but just as her nose was brushing softly against his, the fragile quiet was fractured by the sound of his phone ringing.  He stilled, and their eyes caught. The moment was broken. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Adrien stepped away from her and lifted his phone to his ear.

“ _Do you have any idea what time it is?_ ” a voice bellowed through the speaker.

“Hello to you, too, father.”  It was incredibly difficult for Adrien to keep the patronizing tone out of his voice.

“You’re supposed to be on your way to a photo shoot right now, yet your bodyguard and Nathalie are standing outside your door, and no one is answering!”

Vaguely concerned Marinette could hear his father’s shouting from where she was standing, he walked further to the other side of the room.

“That does sound like a problem,” he responded ambiguously.  “I’ll take care of it.”

“And what, pray tell, is so much more important than doing your job?”

God, if only he could see his father’s face right then.  He was sure it must be plum purple.

“That’s funny,” Adrien couldn’t resist saying.  “I thought you knew where I was at all times.”

There was a few seconds of quiet, during which he looked nervously at his companion, who was watching him with wide eyes.  At last, Gabriel spoke again, quieter.

“Are you with Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

Determined to be as unhelpful as possible, Adrien said nothing.

“While I am begrudgingly pleasantly surprised you are taking initiative for once, Adrien, I must also take this moment to remind you that you have scheduling responsibilities, and I will not stand for you neglecting them!”

The line was suddenly dead, and Adrien pulled the phone away from his ear to hold it in front of his face, frowning.  It wasn’t that he was hurt or even offended. God knows his father had said many worse things to him in the course of his teenage and young adult years.  He still remembers the day when he was still fourteen that his father said, “For once in your life, Adrien, please don’t disappoint me.”

It was more amusement and mild concern for the woman standing less than two meters away from him that he was feeling.  He pocketed the device and looked up to find her still watching him. When their eyes met, hers dropped as the color in her cheeks turned a dusty pink.

“I, uh, I have to go,” he uttered quietly.

Marinette nodded but didn’t look up.

“I’m really sorry.  I didn’t mean to… get you into any trouble.”

Adrien shrugged.

“I’ve been in worse.”

She raised her head then, a look of mild horror on her face, before turning and placing the sketchbook on her desk.  Then she walked over to a table in the corner of the room and retrieved a wrapped box.

“Here,” she said, proffering the package to him with a small smile.  “I said I would give them to you in moments when you weren’t expecting it.  Consider this your first installment of the Marinette Dupain-Cheng Gift Trust.”

Adrien reached out carefully as though afraid it would disappear when he touched it.  He accepted the box, then slowly pulled it closer to his body. He couldn’t help the way he stared at it, like a priceless possession, but he realized after a minute or so that she was watching him again.

“Ah,” he began awkwardly, “sh- should I open it now, or-”

“Heavens, no!” Marinette laughed.  “You have to get out of here before you get in even more trouble.  Besides, I would be embarrassed. Open it later, when you’re alone.”

The blond man walked toward her until they were less than an arm’s distance apart.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, then leaned in to kiss her cheek.  “Marinette.”

When he pulled away, her face was flushed, and she quickly turned her back to him under the pretense of organizing and closing the chest.  In reality, of course, she was trying to hide the fact that she was blushing, and the thought made Adrien smile.

“I’ll see you later.”

He turned and crossed the distance to the front door, taking the knob in hand.  At the last moment, just before he twisted and pulled it open, he looked back again at Marinette.  

“Marinette?”

She faced him, sketchbook again in her hands, with an expectant look.

“Yes?”

“Can I… see you later?  Can I come back here, maybe after I’m done tonight?”

Her face softened, and she smiled.

“I guess I could take in another stray.”

Oh.  _Oh._

Adrien’s heart pounded in his chest as he smiled stupidly and turned to walk out through her living room and front door.

Once in the hall, he paused, his ears pulsing loudly, before slowly, quietly pulling at the wrapping.  It gave easily, revealing a small box inside. He opened the lid.

Inside was a black silk pocket square with little red ladybugs embroidered into a corner.  Underneath was a small sip of paper that read, _This one’s new, just because_ with a small doodle of a smiling Ladybug.

His eyelids falling shut, Adrien raised a hand, sliding it down his face.

“Ah, shit.”

* * *

Marinette tried not to pace, but there was no denying the way her feet repetitively traversed the floor of her living room until she couldn’t recall how many paths she had made back and forth in the small space.  It was already dark out. There was no way Adrien was still at his photoshoot. He said he would come back when it was over, and she couldn’t help the way she hoped he would make good on those words despite knowing the likelihood of his being able to fulfill them was slim.  

She was beginning to get a picture of just how little control he had over his life.  In their initial meeting, there was that large, burly man who suddenly showed up and took Adrien away.  He had mentioned before how secluded he was for most of his life, and then there was the phone call with his father a few hours before that she couldn’t help partially overhearing.  Chances of him showing up at her door at this point were basically nonexistent. Disappointed and resigned, Marinette collapsed with a sigh onto the couch.

The apartment was too quiet, the space mildly suffocating.  Her eyes darted to a side table where a carton of cigarettes rested.  After a minute of resistance, she gave in and reached for it, extracting one of the cancerous pieces and lifting it to her lips.  The lighter in her hand flickered brightly, ephemerally in the dimness of the room. As she exhaled a plume, she felt the tenseness in her body finally begin to dissipate.

Her mind flitted through the events of the day, mostly on the time she spent with Adrien.  They had shared that brief moment right before his phone rang, though she didn’t know if it was just a passing thing.  She hadn’t considered him in a romantic light before (at least, not since she was a teenager), but suddenly she couldn’t calm her racing heart at the thought of almost kissing him.  Thinking about it made her cheeks burn, too. She inhaled another lungful of burning tobacco, held it and released.

Marinette lifted her phone, illuminating the screen and opening up her messages.  Luka’s name sat a few down on the list of recent threads. She sighed, locking the screen and tossing it to the side.

Trying to start something with Adrien when she was such a romantic fuck up wasn’t a good idea.  Their friendship was still young and fragile. Chances were high they would end up falling out, or worse--falling into the same ambiguous relationship she had with Luka.  It was probably for the best if Adrien didn’t come back. With that in mind, Marinette stood up from her couch and headed toward her room. She needed to get her mind off Adrien, off Luka, off the mess she tended to make of love.

She needed a drink.

* * *

She wasn’t sure why, but before she knew where she was, Marinette found herself sitting at the bar in Le Paon, Ladybug mask back in place.  Her fingers twiddled with the rim of a rocks glass, the light-hued golden liquid within swirling around cubes of ice. At her hip, her phone pinged with a notification.

_I’m sorry. Something came up. Call you later?_

Marinette sighed, closing the message from Adrien without responding.  At least he had the courtesy to tell her he wasn’t coming. Still, she warred with the idea of how close she should let him get.  Their friendship was developing too quickly--it made her nervous. She lifted her glass to her lips and tilted it back until there was only ice left.  The liquor burned its way down her throat, causing her to grunt, but it felt relieving.

“In need of another?”

Looking up, Marinette noticed a man with deep red hair and turquoise eyes step closer in his position behind the counter.  His hair was pulled back in a messy bun, the upper half of his face covered by a butterfly mask. He looked familiar…

“Oh, I remember you!” she blurted, a little enthused as a result of the drink she ingested.  “Papillon, right?”

The man smiled, spinning a glass in one hand while he wiped it spotlessly clean with a white rag.

“Ladybug, right?”

Marinette raised her glass and jiggled the cubes of ice.  It made a clinking sound.

“That’s me,” she said cheerfully, but she was only able to achieve half of a smile.

Papillon set the glass he was cleaning down and reached toward the bottles of liquor behind him.

“So, what were you drinking?”

“Oh!  Balvenie.  On the rocks.  But… I should probably switch to something gentler.”

The masked man smiled at her.

“Hmm.  How do you feel about ginger and lime?”

“Um… good?  I guess? I like them.”

“All right, just give me a sec.”

He reached for a bottle of vodka and a tall, copper plated mug, filling it with ice.  After squeezing a wedge of lime and dropping in the shell, he poured in a little vodka, then reached into the cooler under the bar and retrieved a green bottle, filling the rest of the mug with its contents.  Then he dropped in a sprig of mint and a stirring rod with a few small pieces of ginger candy skewered through and set it down in front of her.

She looked down at it curiously before lifting it slowly toward her lips.

“What’s this?” she asked, then took a sip.

“It’s called a Moscow Mule,” the bartender replied.  Marinette set the mug down, considering.

“It’s good!  What’s in it?”

“Vodka, ginger beer, and lime juice.”

“I’ve never heard of it before, though.”  She swirled the drink around in the glass a bit, peering into it.

“Ah, yes.  I learned this from a college mate.”

“Oh, yeah?” she responded, taking another drink.

“I roomed with a Californian while I was attending Central Saint Martins.  He did some bartending to get through university. I picked up some of his tricks, and they ended up coming in handy when I started working here.”

She laughed, smiling.

“That’s amazing!  That’s a really difficult institution to gain admittance.”

He didn’t say anything, but continued to smile and watch her.  Feeling a little awkward, she sipped a little more and cleared her throat, mind racing for another topic.

“Wow, you really don’t remember me, do you?” he suddenly asked, but it came out more like a statement.

“I’m sorry, what?”  Marinette blinked, confused.

The bartender smirked wryly.

“I’d take off my mask, but we’re not supposed to do that for anything.”

The seated woman narrowed her eyes, smirking in amusement.

“What’s the matter, you can’t just tell me?”

He smiled secretively, leaning close until his forearms were completely on the bar and his face was a few decimeters in front of her.  Her eyes flicked back and forth between his, seeing through the slight buzz of the alcohol that they were a deep turquoise. Framed in red hair and lean cheekbones, he began to look more and more familiar.  She mentally subtracted the mask, shortened the hair to the shoulders, added a bit more youthful padding to his face…

“Nathaniel?”

* * *

Adrien rushed into Le Paon, shrugging off his jacket, which was wet with the first raindrops of a cool autumn shower.  He looked around the lobby and lounge, relieved to see there weren’t many patrons yet. It was still early, and though their crowds tended to be more affluent and exclusive, they usually didn’t arrive until later in the evening.  Still, it was a Friday night, and it was rather an inconvenient time for his best bartender to suddenly come down with the flu, leaving Nathaniel alone for the rest of the night.

He didn’t do it often, but Adrien thought he might have to don his mask and step behind the…

...bar.

As soon as he glanced in that direction, he saw her.  She was sitting on a stool, turned three quarters profile away from him so that he could just see the edge of her jaw.  And right in front of her, so close he could easily kiss her, was his employee.

Adrien’s jaw ticked.

Nathaniel.

* * *

Marinette’s laughter could be heard even from down the back hallway.  Adrien gruffly ripped a shirt over his head, tossing it onto the small couch in his office and pulling another one out of a narrow closet.  It was all black, fitted, with a high neck and short sleeves. He held it up in front of his face, considering for a moment. Then he looked back into the closet, something else catching his notice.  The black shirt followed the one he was wearing from before onto the couch as well. He reached into the closet and retrieved another shirt, lifting it up for inspection.

One corner of his lips quirked up in satisfaction.

“That’s better.”

* * *

“So wait, whatever happened to Marc?” Marinette asked around a sip of her minty drink.  “You two used to be really close. Didn’t you work on a comic together or something?”

Nathaniel’s smile fell a little.

“Ah, yea.  Work and romance didn’t mix together very well,” he answered.  “We started having disagreements about our comics, and everything else just sort of fell apart.  I haven’t talked to him in years, but I hear he’s doing well.”

“Oh,” she responded awkwardly.  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“That’s ok.”  He shrugged, leaning his arms on the countertop again.  His gaze locked with hers. “He’s not the only person I’ve ever been interested in.”

Marinette stilled, chuckling nervously.  She lifted the straw of her drink to her lips again, frustrated when it turned out there was nothing left but ice.  Setting it back down on the bar, she sighed.

“Listen, Nathaniel-”

“Good evening,” a low voice purred, cutting her off.  “Am I interrupting something?”

Both Marinette and Nathaniel looked simultaneously in the same direction.

A blond man dressed in black sauntered their way.

She did her best not to let her eyes roam over his body as she took in the sight of him, but it was a losing battle.

His shirt could hardly be termed that--it was more like a vest with sleeves.  It was a deep black silk, with buttons up the front, but the neckline was low enough that she could see the dip of his sternum between two smooth, toned pecs.  His pants were tight, too--and they looked like leather, black of course. Around his neck he wore a bowtie almost like a choker, and on his right ring finger sat a thick silver band, with four points forming a square around a flat circular base.  Green eyes practically glowed from behind a black mask. Under the light, she could see the ribbing of its texture, almost like honeycomb--probably a leather material as well. It had an irregular border, with one half dipping down to cover part of his cheek while also rising up to cover more of the forehead.  On the opposite side, the mask was barely thick enough to completely surround the eye and eyebrow.  

He almost looked like-

“Boss,” Nathaniel said, cutting off Marinette’s thoughts.  From the look on his face, he was just as startled as she was.  “S- sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Adrien smiled but said nothing, choosing instead to walk past Nathaniel and stop in front of Marinette.

“M’lady,” he said, lifting her knuckles close to his lips while bowing slightly.  Marinette couldn’t help the slight warmth in her cheeks. He released her hand slowly, smirking, and straightened.  Then, without even looking in Nathaniel’s direction, he said, “I’ve got this covered, Papillon. Please see to our guests in the lounge for the rest of the evening, thank you.”  Then he reached down below the bar and began pulling out a glass.

The redhead nodded reluctantly but obeyed without argument.  Marinette gave him a smile and a wave as he passed, which he returned.  Her eyes followed him across the room and through the archway separating the bar from the lounge.

“Friend of yours?” the deep voice asked, drawing her attention back to the space in front of her.

“Huh?” she asked, surprised.  “Oh! Yes. Someone I knew in collège and lycée.”  Melting ice settled in the glass in her hand. She watched the man on the other side of the bar as he rummaged about out of her view.  At last, he pulled out a clear bottle, some lime wedges, and a rocks glass with ice. Pouring the clear liquid and adding a lime to the rim, he slid the drink across to her.

“What’s this?”  Marinette eyed him curiously and only a bit hesitantly leaned to take the straw between her lips.

“Water,” he said as the cold liquid surprised her tongue.  She coughed out a laugh, then took another sip. 

“You’re one of those bartenders who cuts off his patrons because he doesn’t like making money, right?” she asked, tone full of teasing.

He leaned forward on his elbows, smirking.

“You could say that.”

Marinette laughed again, shaking her head as she toyed with the cubes of ice in her water.

“I hope you know I’m planning on getting very drunk tonight.”

His green eyes wandered over her face.  There was something secretive behind them that made her curiosity increase.  Still, all he said was:

“Is that so?”

She nodded solemnly.  He hummed, leaning closer and narrowing his eyes at her.

“All right.  I bite. What’s got you down?”

The surprise on Marinette’s face was obvious.

“Wow.  That good, huh?”  She looked down at her water, wishing it were something much stronger.  Then she sighed heavily. Her shoulders slumped with the exhale. “It’s... love problems.”

He remained quiet, waiting.  Marinette briefly debated the cliche-ness of confessing your troubles to a bartender, then decided she was just tipsy enough not to care.

“There’s this guy,” she continued as though he asked.  He didn’t, but the fact he was waiting and listening was implied.

“Oh?  Not a girl?  Damn.”

Marinette exhaled a relieved chuckle.  The teasing was enough to dispel what remained of her self-consciousness.

“No,” she grinned, reaching out to tap his nose.  He lurched back with a shocked but amused expression.  “That’s an entirely different story.”

“Oh-ho, I see,” he laughed in return.  As she watched he started tidying some of the stock below the bar.

“This guy: I’ve known him for a really long time.  He was my first love, sort of.”

Green eyes peeked out from underneath the blond mop of hair as he turned a glance in her direction.

“Go on.”

She sighed.

“We were together for a few years.  He was my first… everything. I did love him once, but I never really fell _in love_ with him, if that makes sense?”

The bartender looked up again from some glasses he was washing by hand.  That something mysterious was glimmering behind his gaze again, but he said nothing.

“I have… a bit of a weakness where he’s concerned.  We-” she cut herself off abruptly, taking a drink of water straight from the glass, then setting it down a bit roughly.  “Actually, can I have a drink again now? I kind of need it.”

The man dried his hands, glancing briefly at her before turning to the bottles of liquor behind him.

“Any requests?” he called over his shoulder.

Marinette tossed her head back and forth a time or two before shrugging.

“Whatever you think sounds good,” she finally answered.  He remained silent, but began grabbing several bottles, cups, and ingredients.  She watched, enamored. “What’s that?”

He looked up from a metal tumbler filled with ice and a couple of clear liquids.

“So far: rum, liqueur, and grapefruit juice.  It’ll be ready in a minute, go on.”

She couldn’t help tapping a finger impatiently on the bartop as she watched him pour a couple other things into the tumbler, place a lid over it and begin to shake.

“Right.  What was I saying?”

“You’re weak for him.”

Marinette coughed, having just taken a sip of water in her impatience.

“That’s not what I meant,” she managed to rasp out.

The bartender smirked at her mischievously.  She gave him a half-hearted glare. He reached over and grabbed what looked like a margarita or a martini glass and, straining the mixed drink, poured the cocktail.  After garnishing the rim with a curl of lime peel, he carefully set it down in front of her.

“It’s all semantics,” he rebutted.  She narrowed her eyes, then took a sip of the new drink.

“And what’s this?” she asked.  It was tangy, a bit sour, like grapefruit, but also sweet.  If she had to guess the liquor, she would say rum.

“Hemingway daiquiri.  Now, you were saying?”

“Right.”  She lifted the cup to her lips again along with a poised index finger, taking a long sip before setting back on the bartop.  He waited with raised eyebrows.

“And the verdict?”

“It’s good,” she said like an afterthought.  “But I’m not _weak_ for him.”  The man pursed his lips like he was suppressing a smirk and shrugged.

“Then what are you?”

“I’m just…” she trailed, thinking.  “I’m just… lonely. And it isn’t just because of him.  In fact, as horrible as it sounds, it has very little to do with him.  He’s an easy habit to fall into because it’s a habit I’ve had before, you know?”

The blond man across from her watched, face unreadable.  Hearing her own words echo back to her, she rested her elbows on the bartop and resisted the urge to dig out her eyes with the heels of her hands, electing to press them against her forehead instead.

“Ugh, I’m such a horrible person.”

Silence met her confession.  After a few seconds of no response, she dropped her hands and looked at her companion.

“You know, this is the part where you tell me everybody is actually horrible and not to worry about it so much.”

The blond man shrugged, and Marinette couldn’t help but notice the definition in his arms.

“I don’t know what you’ve done yet.  But, fair point. Everyone _is_ actually at least a little bit horrible.  As to whether or not you should worry, that’s up to you.”

Marinette’s shoulders sagged.  She sipped some more of her drink.

“It’s just… we were friends before anything else, and we’ve stayed friends ever since, if you could call it that.  Whenever one of us is lonely, it’s easy to pick up the phone and have that need met, even if it’s just for a night.  But the problem is, that he always loved me more, and I’ve come to realize recently that it never really went away.” To her horror, tears began to fill her eyes.  “I’ve been hurting him all this time, and it doesn’t matter than I made the decision to stop because now I know what a horrible person I am, and that I’m destined to ruin any prospective relationship that comes my way.”

“Ok,” the bartender said slowly, sliding the glass a bit away from Marinette.  “Looks like you might be the type of drunk who cries.” She leveled him with a glare.  He gave her a soft laugh. “I’m kidding,” he said, then put the drink back. Subtly, he set a box of tissues down before her.  She looked up, and his whole face seemed to soften. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re really afraid of?”

Marinette sniffed, grabbing a tissue.  As she dabbed at the moisture in the corners of her eyes, she considered the answer to that.

“So… there’s this _other_ guy.”

The man’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“Oh?” he asked archly.  “Do pray tell.” His eyes seemed to brighten, the shine of interest all over his face.  She released a sigh.

“There’s this guy I met recently, but we’ve kind of taken to each other to the point where it feels like I’ve known him much longer.  He’s… a really great person. I kind of messed up his first impression of me. When we met, I was a bit of a prick. I made some assumptions about him.  But instead of writing me off right away, he was… so unbelievably open and forgiving. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as open and forgiving as him.”  She tried, but it was impossible for Marinette to keep the awe out of her voice. “He’s… like the sun. But he’s also surrounded by this darkness that I want to protect him from.  I think I could really like him. I think he could be one of the best people I’ve ever known. I want him to be happy. I want to _make_ him happy.  I just…” she trailed, overcome, and tears returned to her eyes.  “I don’t want to destroy him, and I feel like that’s the only thing I’m capable of doing. I can’t-”  She exhaled a controlled breath. “He’s just… such a good friend.”

A few tears landed with a _plip plip_ on the surface of the bar.  Marinette stared into her daiquiri like it was holding all the answers.  After a few moments, a hand appeared in her vision, startling her into looking up.  Her erstwhile confessor and confidante looked at her through deep, concerned eyes. The hand that was reaching out to her extended a single, curled finger, which softly wiped away one of the tears that was still clinging to her cheek.

“Don’t cry, Ladybug.”  He didn’t say it like it was bothersome or an inconvenience.  He said it like he genuinely wished she wasn’t hurting. She gave him a wobbly smile.

“You’re actually a really good listener, you know that?” she asked, laughing breathily, nervous.  He gave her a small smile in return.

“You’re easy to listen to.”

Marinette scoffed at that, wiping away the last of her tears and taking another drink.

“With a sweet talking mouth like that, I’d be astonished if you didn’t have a girlfriend already.  Or boyfriend?”

She looked at him, arching an eyebrow teasingly.  His chuckle sounded light, like bells.

“No girlfriend.  Or boyfriend.”

“Damn,” she said without missing a beat.  The two of them grinned at each other for a moment until Marinette began to feel self-conscious.  She glanced down at her glass, running her fingertip around the rim.

“Are you going to tell him?”

His question startled her into lifting her head.  His head was cocked to the side, expression open, curious, and waiting.

“Ah, that’s- I don’t- ahm…”  Even through her stammering, he just stayed patiently quiet.  “Ah, no.” Her eyes dropped to her drink again. “I can’t do that.  I’m a mess right now. He doesn’t need that on his plate. He’s got enough to deal with without adding me to his list of responsibilities.”

“Don’t you think that’s up to him to decide?”

Marinette shook her head, certain.

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p.’  “Even if in some unrealistic version of reality, he didn’t mind about all the anxiety and wreckage I brought to his life, it would still make me feel so much worse knowing that I was doing that.  I want to make him happy, not overwhelmed.”

“What if those two are inseparable?  What if he decides he wants you and asks you to accept him?”

She couldn’t stop shaking her head.

“What would you say to him if he asked you tomorrow?”

The intensity in his voice sent a shiver of surprise down her spine.  She finally stilled, then looked up to find his green eyes burning in her direction.  Marinette swallowed, unsure why they felt so familiar.

“It would hurt, but I would have to tell him no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh.  Writing/reading/thinking about everything Marinette told Adrien unbeknownst to her makes me cringe
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!  As always, kudos, comments, subscribes, and everything in between gives me all the warm feels!
> 
> <3 Muse

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comment and kudo, and when I have time, I'll add more!  
> <3 Muse


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